


Prompto, Reporting In

by battleselfie



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Niflheim!Prompto, Prompto is the worst possible Niff spy, Prompto is trying his best, Written before Episode Prompto - Shouldn't have any spoilers for dlc, i feel like i need to add tags at this point, kinda sorta enemies to friends to lovers except one doesn't know they're enemies, rated for a few future violent scenes, they're underage at the start but there's no underage sexual content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:16:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9862085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battleselfie/pseuds/battleselfie
Summary: After years of showing little promise or improvement in combat training, the Empire decided they had a better use for teenage Prompto. The mission was supposed to be simple. Move to Insomnia under a false name and history, befriend the young Prince Noctis, and report all findings back to Niflheim. And absolutely, under no circumstances, should he allow himself to get attached.





	1. A Chance at Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had no internet for a week, and I had nothing to do but write. This has been sitting on my laptop since then. I have a few other chapters written but not edited, so we'll see how the update schedule goes.
> 
> I hope you like it! This is the first multi-chapter thing I've written in ages. I'm nervous to post things, but here we go.
> 
> I feel like I should note that Prompto isn't going to start as the same dork we all know and love. All in good time.
> 
> Edit for new readers: The majority of this fic was written before any DLC was released. This won't line up with Episode Prompto content.

_Okay, just run through the steps again. You've got this. Safety off. Hands on the grip just like... no, wait. There, like that. Steady now. Stop shaking. Now line up the sights, and..._

Bullets tore through the paper target down the range in the dimly lit training room. The noise hardly bothered the teenage boy behind the pistol any more, but he still couldn't help but jump at the recoil. Gun training was new to him, the most recent attempt to “make the boy useful” as they had put it, after many failed attempts to teach him to fight with melee weapons. He had more of a talent for it, but barely.

When the last shot was finished, he flipped the safety on and hit the button that brought his target back toward him. He took off the goggles placed awkwardly over old, too-weak glasses and sighed at the results. The upper torso and some of the area around the vaguely human-shaped target were riddled with holes, but he was aiming for the head. One shot had just barely grazed it. When he counted the holes, it seemed like a few hadn't hit at all. He wasn't allowed to move on until he could consistently hit a stationary target where he wanted to, and he was still far from that.

A buzz through the loudspeaker signaled lunch time. As he popped out his bright orange ear plugs, a large hand clapped onto his shoulder. He flinched, but quickly composed himself.

“Not half bad, kid! Last week you could barely hit the target.” The boy looked up at a slightly older teen towering over him. He couldn't remember talking to him before. Most conversations here were a blur in his memory anyway. Regardless, he threw on a well-practiced friendly smile, one that didn't quite reflect the look in his eyes.

“You think so? I was kinda worried I wasn't cut out for this. You guys are all such great shots,” he replied, gesturing vaguely toward the rest of the range. His tone, like his expression, was practiced to the point of being nearly indistinguishable from the real thing.

“Sure do. I can just tell you're going to do great things for the Empire some day.” _Brainwashed type. Got it._

He had categories in his mind for the rest of his fellow doomed soldiers-in-training. Two main groups, each split into two smaller ones. Those who resisted the Empire and their training were either canon fodder, converted into magitek troops right away and sent into a fight to take the blows for stronger soldiers, or test subjects, taken back to the labs to test experimental technology. Gods forbid you got assigned to the bedroom that shared a wall with that lab.

Those who accepted the offer for training were the brainwashed and the broken. Most of the brainwashed were like him, raised in the facility since birth or close to it. When you grow up being told over and over that you'll be a hero to your country, you tend to believe it. The broken were typically the ones taken by force later in life, and most only agreed to training out of fear for the labs. Tests had shown that a magitek soldier's combat abilities before conversion affected their abilities after, but their willingness to fight didn't. So the broken were left alone as long as they kept training. It wasn't like they talked much anyway.

He was never really sure where he fit in his own system. He knew he wasn't brainwashed, but was he as far gone as the broken? Maybe his special circumstances kept him out of both groups.

The other boy kept talking as they walked toward the cold cafeteria full of the same gross food rations as always. He smiled and nodded along, not really listening. As they walked up to the doorway, a guard held out her arm to block the way. She waved the other through before speaking.

“You're having lunch with Mr. Besithia today, Prompto.”

“Already? It's only been what, two weeks? Better watch out. People might start thinking he cares. It would ruin his image, dontcha think?” The guard made a show of rolling her eyes, but Prompto caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“You know, one of these days you'll get us in trouble for letting you talk like that.”

“But you still never stop me. Guess working for him isn't much better, huh?” She shook her head.

“Just get moving, kid. It's on my head if you don't show up on time.” Prompto sighed dramatically and turned back down the hallway, his previously joking demeanor instantly shifting back into something more neutral. The guards always appreciated a few jokes at the expense of their under-paying boss, so that's what they got. He could get away with a lot when they were willing to turn the other way for a kid they liked.

Prompto made his way to the elevator and down the hall to the office. He took a deep breath, scanned the codeprint tattooed on his wrist, and stepped inside when the door unlocked.

“You're late.”

“Sorry, sir. Won't happen again.” He stood at attention, intentionally focusing his gaze on the back wall of the room instead of the graying man behind the desk. Verstael Besithia pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Six's sake, boy, just sit down.” Verstael had learned years ago that any obedient, soldier-like attitude from Prompto was some odd way of mocking him, but he still did it every time. Prompto liked to think it made a point. He took the chair in front of the desk as told, still avoiding eye contact. “What's the progress on firearms training?”

“Better than the other classes. I'm not on moving targets yet, but the guns make more sense to me at least.” Prompto twiddled his thumbs in his lap. Even without looking, he could feel Verstael's familiar glare.

“I see,” said Verstael. The tone was certainly not impressed. After a few moments of silence, Prompto risked a question.

“What's with the early meeting? Don't we usually keep this to once a month at most?” _And I'm not seeing any lunch here_ , he added to himself.

Verstael was silent, now flipping through an aged notebook Prompto was very familiar with. His progress reports.

“When I entered you into this program, I had such high hopes that you could be one of our best soldiers. But this,” he patted the open page with the back of his hand, “hardly looks like almost fifteen years of work.” Prompto slumped back in his chair.

“Sorry I'm not living up to your dreams of making your own kid into a perfect mindless tin can,” he grumbled. If he were anybody else, he'd be sent to the labs for a comment like that. They both knew, however, that Prompto kept trying regardless of how he felt about his fate. Much like the broken, he was left alone as long as he didn't stop. Still, Verstael's eyes narrowed at the comment.

“Mind your tone, boy,” he scolded. “I've brought you here to make you an offer, and I can revoke it at any time. Do show some respect for once.”

“An offer?” He sat up straight again. “What do you mean?”

“An offer to remove you from the magitek program.” Prompto's eyes shot wide. “Don't say anything yet. There is far more to it. I had a few of your trainers keep an eye on your interactions with your peers these last several months, and they have reported something of interest to me.” He leaned forward, watching Prompto's reactions carefully. “They tell me you make fast friends with your peers, but not once have you so much as batted an eye when one is taken for conversion. As if you never knew them. Care to explain that?”

Prompto struggled to find the words to answer. He barely even heard the question through his own racing thoughts.

“I, uh..” he swallowed and recomposed himself. “They always go at some point or another, so I got used to it, I guess. Don't really think I'd call any of those people friends, though. Everybody thinks you're their friend if you know what to say, you know?” For the first time in recent memory, Prompto's father smiled at him. It was small and brief, but still there.

“That's what I was hoping to hear. Masterful acting, no attachment, and the right age as well. You very well may be useful to us after all.”

Prompto scanned Verstael's face, searching for signs of deceit. He said nothing, afraid to speak out of turn if it would cost him... whatever this was.

“I'll put this simply. We've found ourselves in desperate need of a spy.” Prompto raised an eyebrow. _Okay, this has to be a trick._ “This mission requires no combat skills, only the ability to get close to the target, keep your identity hidden, and give regular reports. Provided you give us useful information, we'll keep you on this job until further notice. Otherwise, we'll bring you back for conversion as planned before.”

“Right... Okay, assuming you're not trying to mess with me, who would I actually be spying on?”

“Noctis Lucis Caelum, Crown Prince of Lucis. We have it on good authority that he could pose a major threat to the Empire in the coming years. Your job would be to give us the advantage we need before that happens.”

“Wait, back up. Enemy royalty? You actually think I can get some super-guarded prince who's probably surrounded by friends to give up all his secrets to some random guy? And what if they find me out? They'll--”

“Enough!” Verstael snapped. “If you're so against it, we can leave you in the program.” Prompto opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped. Slowly, he shook his head. “That's what I thought. Now go. There's food for you through the second door on the right. Somebody will meet you there within the hour to brief you on your mission.”

Prompto's mind was in a haze through the entire meeting. As much as he wanted to listen to all the details thrown at him, all he could think about was the outside. There was a whole world out there that he never dared to imagine. He truly never thought he'd get to see outside of a metal suit. What was it like? Were the people any different? How did a high school even work? He snapped back to reality when a folder overflowing with papers was smacked onto the table in front of him.

“You have a room down the hall. Go there and study everything here. All day, every day. We'll bring you your meals. I want everything memorized, you hear?” Prompto nodded. “Good. Get to it then. You leave in two weeks.”

As Prompto left the room, folder clutched tight to his chest as if it might try to run away, a bright, genuine smile spread across his face for the first time in years.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the shorter chapters. I'll try to have the next one edited and up in a few days.


	2. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everybody who left kudos, commented, bookmarked, or subscribed! Every single one of you is incredible <3
> 
> Anyway, back to my no-internet daydreams.

Prompto couldn't tear his eyes off the passing trees, signs, and buildings speeding by outside the car window. The ride had taken hours, but he never wanted it to end. How could there be so many different colors? Did this much light ever hurt people's eyes? Did every person have completely different clothes?

He forced himself to pay some attention to his final questioning as they approached the Crown City. Some higher-up he could never remember the name of was tasked with getting him there and making absolutely sure he knew his own story.

“Your new name?”

“Prompto Argentum.”

“Where are you from?”

“My parents moved a lot. They saved up enough to open a small shop in Lestallum a few years ago, so I've been there longest.”

“And why are you in Insomnia?”

“My family used money from the shop so I could move there alone and go to a better school. They wanted to give me a better start in life than they had.”

“How will you handle your codeprint?”

“Covered at all times. If anybody does see it, I'll just tell them it was a dumb tattoo I got a few years ago.”

“And your reports?”

“No less than once a week. The files will be encrypted, and that may take a few hours until they improve the program. Plan ahead for that.”

“Good.” The man glanced toward him. “And Prompto? Don't be stupid in there. You're no good to us if some bodyguard kills you.” He nodded quietly in response. “We've wasted enough time and money on your training. Don't make us regret this, too.”

_Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. As if there wasn't enough pressure already._

The two spent the rest of the ride in total silence. Prompto tried not to focus too hard on just how weird his life suddenly was. He was riding in a machine he had never seen in person, wearing an outfit completely unlike their standard issue white shirt and gray pants, his hair cut in an odd, asymmetrical way he wasn't used to, with new contacts to replace his glasses, about to go befriend the prince of a country he was born to fight. He kept thinking it was only a matter of time before somebody told him it was all some big joke and he was going back to Gralea.

The car finally pulled to a stop just outside the city gates. The man handed Prompto his last few forged forms for school and an ID and motioned for Prompto to step out on his own. The door was barely shut before the car pulled away and left him there to fend for himself.

His hands shook as he approached a woman at the gate. She stared down at him, expressionless.

“What's your business?”

“I, um...” _Deep breath. She's no different than the guards you're used to. Just smile and wing it._ “I just moved here. I don't know what you need from me to--”

“Identification?” He handed her the fake card. She turned it over in her hands, carefully inspecting it. Prompto's hands felt clammy and his throat went dry. What if it wasn't good enough? But after a few moments, she handed it back to him. “All clear. You know where you're going, kid?”

“Not really, but I have this map.” He pulled it out of his bag and pointed to the circled area where his new apartment was.

“Okay. Just make sure you stick to the main roads once you reach about here.” She pointed to a spot on the map. “Shady types around there, and not a lot of love for people from outside the wall. Watch yourself, okay?” Prompto blinked, taken aback at the genuine concern for his safety. Why did she care? She didn't even know him.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Thank you.” She gave him a soft smile and pressed a button to open the gate.

“Welcome to Insomnia.”

Prompto was immediately bombarded with noise. He had heard it muffled from outside, but he never expected everything to be this lively. There were more people on the sidewalks and in the cars on this first street than he'd ever seen in one place before. He could smell some kind of food he didn't recognize from a stand down the road, and somebody played an instrument on the corner. Every new sight, sound, and smell was a new sensation that left him mesmerized. For a few long moments, he couldn't even move.

His own emotions overwhelmed him. Prompto wasn't even quite sure why, but all he could do was laugh. This was an excitement unlike anything he'd ever known, and that was the only thing his body could do to express that. It came softly at first, disbelieving, then grew until he could hardly breathe. Even when it died back down, he couldn't stop grinning. And finally, when he could will his legs to move, he made his way toward... was it home now? He guessed so.

The rest of the walk was no less exciting. _Do people really live this every day? How do they keep up?_ Time flew by, and soon Prompto stood at the door marked with the new address they had told him. He fumbled with the key, hands shaking from the excitement. The place was barren, but soft afternoon light came in through the windows. He could get used to that.

This was a life he could fight to keep.

Prompto threw down his small suitcase of clothes and flopped down on the floor of what he assumed would have been a bedroom if it had an actual bed.

“I wonder if they gave me enough money to buy one,” he said out loud. “Something softer than those old bunks, maybe. With nobody snoring or screaming or talking to themselves all night.” He let out a content sigh.

He stayed there with his eyes closed for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Don't get too comfy yet. You don't get to stay if you don't do your job right. And you could die if you do it wrong...”

Prompto picked himself off the floor and headed toward the bathroom. He barely recognized himself in the tiny mirror over the sink. The new haircut and bright clothes really did make him look more like the people he had seen on the streets that morning, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his reflection back in Niflheim. Even when he had, the light was always so dim. Prompto leaned in closer to take a look at himself. _I had no clue I was so pale. And... have I always had freckles?_ He frowned in annoyance as he looked himself in the eyes. That same shade of blue as his father, and while his eyebrows were thinner, they had that same sharp angle toward his nose.

“Bastard,” he grumbled.

Prompto started up a shower, turning the knob so far that the water burnt his skin. He ran through dozens of ways to introduce himself the next day at school. He didn't even know what sort of person this prince was, but the introduction had to be tomorrow. They were expecting a report right away.

He slept on the floor that night. The stillness of the room comforted him, even when his nerves flared. Despite the knots in his back the next morning, he felt more rested than he had in months.

The next morning, Prompto struggled with the phone they had given him to send his reports on, desperately trying to work the search functions and figure out how on Eos he was supposed to tie the tie on his uniform. The knot came out looking misshapen and wouldn't tighten all the way, but he would be late if he didn't leave it be. He slipped on his wristband, grabbed the single prepackaged meal they had put in his bag and ate in on the way, running through his plans again.

_How do you talk to a prince, anyway? Ugh, he's probably gonna think I'm below him and ignore me or something. Then what?_

The school was far larger than he expected it to be. Hundreds of students bustled outside, chatting and laughing among themselves. Prompto suddenly felt completely out of place. They all knew each other here. They would know he didn't belong. They--

_No. Don't start this. Walk like you're supposed to be here. Make them believe you. That's why you're the one they sent._

Prompto scanned the crowd for the face he had been shown in pictures. So many of these people looked the same in their uniforms, and remembering faces was never his strong suit. After a few false matches, he shook his head and made his way inside. He had forms to drop off. Finding the prince would have to wait until a break between classes.

A bubbly secretary in a guest office told him he would take the forms where they needed to go. He was already enrolled, after all. The forms were just a final payment, proof of his new address, a few permission slips for kids who didn't have parents inside the city, and a signed agreement from him to follow the student handbook. He pointed Prompto toward his first class with a friendly wave as he left, and once again he found himself confused by the helpfulness of total strangers.

Prompto sat down at the first empty desk he could find in his classroom just before a bell rang through a loudspeaker. It almost reminded him of the buzzer he was so familiar with, but it sounded less harsh.

A middle-aged woman in thick glasses cleared her throat at the front of the room, and slowly the noise and chatter died down.

“Good morning, everybody.” The class echoed the greeting at varying levels of excitement. “Now, I know you all want to catch up and chat with your friends during your first class, but we do have a few things to get through. Since this is our first call for attendance, I'd like you to stand up when I call on you so your classmates and I can match your face to your name.” The other students nodded, a few of the more quiet ones looking a little nervous.

The teacher flipped through a packet of papers. “Okay, first we have... oh! Prompto Argentum, could you stand up, please?” Prompto felt each set of eyes in the room train on him. _Why did they have to give me an A name?_ He slowly pushed himself out of his chair. “Class, say hello to our newest student. We don't have many transfer students these days, so please do your best to make him feel at home.” Prompto felt his heart drop into his stomach as a few people whispered to their friends, still looking at him. Two girls at the front of the room laughed about something he couldn't hear.

He mumbled a quick thanks to the teacher and sat back down, folding his arms and trying to make himself look smaller. He probably wasn't supposed to immediately draw so much attention.

The next few names barely registered in his head until they reached the Cs.

“Noctis Lucis Caelum. It's a pleasure to have you in my class this year.” Prompto's head spun around, and his eyes widened as the boy sitting in the desk to his right stood up.

“Happy to be here,” Noctis replied, using a tone that Prompto knew well. Pleasant, if a bit soft, but there was something else there. _Huh. Guess I'm not the only one here who knows how to fake that. Good to know._

The teacher continued through her list of names, then pulled out a different stack of papers. “Here's your syllabus and reading list for the year. Feel free to read ahead if you'd like.” She set the stack on the first desk, and each person took one and passed it along to the next. Eventually, it made its way to Noctis, who took his and passed it along to Prompto. He had planned to say something, but when their eyes met for a few short seconds, his mind went blank. The reality of his situation hit him like a ton of bricks. His thoughts raced as he passed the stack along.

_I'm here to help the Empire kill that guy. I mean, I'm not pulling the trigger myself, but it sure feels like it. Oh gods, what if they do just order me to kill him? I would never make it out of the city alive. This isn't like some random soon-to-be magitek soldier who was doomed from the start. I'm not sure if this--_ He took a breath. _Calm down, dude. You can't freak out now. He's your one ticket out of that metal suit, and you are NOT going back. You've got this._

The teacher ended the class early to let everybody spend some time talking before their next class, with a warning that things were kicking off for real the next day. School was a lot less strict than the training programs, apparently.

Noctis didn't move from his chair, much to Prompto's surprise. A group of girls walked up to him at one point, but he only acknowledged them enough to be polite before going back to his phone. He almost seemed annoyed by the attention. A thought hit Prompto that crushed all of his original plans. _He doesn't like the super-respectful prince treatment. Great. How am I supposed to-- no, wait. This is perfect. Just act like he's not a prince at all. I'm not even from here. I could just not know for all he cares._

“So,” Prompto started, leaning back casually and resting his elbow over the back of his own chair as he turned toward Noctis, “what class are you headed to next?” Noctis took a few seconds to look up, like he didn't realize the question was directed toward him.

“Um... some kind of history class, I think?” He flipped through his notebook. “Yeah, room 207.”

“Hey, me too! Don't suppose you'd mind helping me find it?” He rubbed the back of his neck in a show of embarrassment. “This place is huge. I have no clue where anything is.”

“Sure...” He looked Prompto up and down with his brows furled. “Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Prompto. And you're...?” Noctis stared at him for a second, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

“I'm Noctis.”

“Okay then, Noct. Nice to meet ya!” He knew the nickname was a small risk, but that tended to help the familiarity factor. Apparently it worked because Prompto could see him trying to hold back a smile.

“Here, let me see your schedule.” Prompto handed it over. Noctis made a few marks on it and passed it back. “We have all but our last two classes together. I'll help you get around if you want.”

“Thanks, dude. 'Preciate it.” He gave the prince a friendly pat on the back. When the time came to move on to the next room, he could see Noctis was deep in thought. He spent most of the day looking like that, in fact. Their next few classes went a lot like the first one. Attendance, embarrassment as the teacher introduced him, a syllabus, and free time. Well, except for the one teacher who jumped right into the first lesson, to the annoyance of the room. In each new class, Prompto and Noctis sat next to each other. They didn't talk much, but Prompto could at least tell there was no distrust yet.

When their final normal class together ended, Noctis showed him toward the lunch room and told him which line he was supposed to go through. They had simple sandwiches out that day, but when they found a secluded table and sat down to eat, Prompto acted like he was about to have a feast.

“This is the food you eat here every day?!” he asked with wide eyes after he practically inhaled his first few bites. He barely stopped himself from talking with his mouth still full.

“Was the food really that bad at your old school?” Prompto mentally kicked himself. Of course this was normal. Why wouldn't it be?

“Uh... yeah, it was. Everything tasted like dust or something. It was gross.” Okay, the Keep sort of counted as his old school. He learned things there. Kind of.

There was silence for a while while the boys ate. Even after he finished, Noctis stared silently at the table, not looking quite mentally present.

“Hey, you still with me, dude? Are you oka--”

“Do you really not know who I am?” he interrupted.

“Nope. No clue. Should I?” Prompto asked with feigned innocence.

“I mean, I'm used to people knowing. That... that sounded more spoiled than it did in my head.” He looked back up at Prompto. “You should probably know before somebody harasses you for it, but you've been spending the day with the Crown Prince. So, you know...” He trailed off.

“Oh, I'm soooo sorry, Your Highness,” Prompto replied, sure to make his sarcasm clear in his voice. “But really, Noct, I don't see how that matters at school. Like at all. You're not here to rule a country. You're here to graduate and try not to fail math like the rest of us.” He was pretty sure he heard a lot of kids talk about hating math. Hopefully that sounded right.

Noctis smiled. Not the small, almost hidden one from that morning, but something more open. The bell stopped the conversation, and Noctis gave Prompto a friendly but somewhat awkward punch on the shoulder when he got up. “See you tomorrow, Prompto. Good luck finding your other classes.”

Prompto waved goodbye as he headed toward the other door on the opposite side of the cafeteria. The second Noctis had his back turned, his smile fell and his eyes dulled again. He let his arm fall slack at his side. _This is gonna wear me out. I never keep acts up that long._

He hardly listened to the last two lessons. The second the final bell rang, he rushed out the door and headed home to the comfort of silence. There were way too many people in that school.

After a quick shower to calm himself down, he sat down on the floor in his single pair of pajama pants and stared at his phone.

“Okay, Prompto. First report. It'll be easy. Just tell them how the day went. You did great. No need to worry.” He wasn't entirely convinced by his own words. Going through his phone, he found the hidden app that prompted him to scan his ID. He held up his wrist, and a message popped up.

_ID Confirmed: Prompto Besithia._ He rolled his eyes. Nobody ever used his last name. “Looks like somebody wanted to make a point,” he said to himself. Prompto steeled his nerves and hit the record button.

“Prompto, reporting in. The first day went even better than expected. Prince Noctis has most of his classes with me, which I'm gonna guess was on purpose. You made my life easier. Anyway, he's already starting to trust me. I think I know exactly how to win him over. I haven't learned much yet, but I don't think he has other friends. Getting the info I need should be easier that way. He looked excited to talk again tomorrow. Might be a little early to pry for details, but I'll see what I can do. That's all I have for now. End report.” He hit the send button and collapsed backwards on the floor.

With the excitement and nerves of the day finally dying down, Prompto allowed himself to drift into an early, much-needed sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have most of their high school years written out already and one part between the end of high school and the start of the game. It's looking like six chapters (including these two) before I get to the events of the game, but I may or may not add a Noctis POV chapter or two in there to flesh out a few things. We'll see.
> 
> Anyway, thanks again for reading!


	3. The Other Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is a little off. I have a really awful flu, but I wanted to get the Noctis chapter written and up anyway. I can't promise my editing is great with this headache :/
> 
> I wrote this after I wrote the next few chapters, so those should be ready a lot sooner than this one.

Noctis' new friend was odd, to say the least. He knew that from day one. Prompto's presence in his life over the last few months only further proved it, to the point that Noctis sometimes felt a lingering worry for him.

One of the most obvious things was the way he ate. Prompto seemed to treat every meal as his last, hardly stopping long enough to swallow between bites with even the grossest cafeteria food. Noctis had tried to press him for answers about what he ate before. He even offered to help him buy better food for home, but Prompto always skirted around the issue and hastily changed the subject.

In fact, Noctis found that learning _anything_ about this mysterious boy from outside the wall bordered on impossible. Sure, he was content to simply spend time with somebody who treated him like a real person, but Prompto's insistence on keeping his past under lock and key only raised Noctis' curiosity.

He moved around a lot as a kid before moving to Lestallum for a few years. That was the most solid and substantial thing Prompto ever told him. The rest Noctis had to figure out on his own.

Prompto clearly didn't eat well. His eating habits and thin frame were sure signs of that. Whatever education he had before high school was abysmal, and Noctis doubted he ever had a teacher who knew how to work with him. He worried about Prompto's home life before he moved. If Noctis moved his hand the wrong way too quickly, Prompto's eyes would show the briefest flash of fear as if that hand was about to strike, and his lips tightened into a thin line at any mention of his parents.

Noctis wasn't sure what to make of all that besides a sense of relief that Prompto had left his old life behind.

His present personality was simple on the surface, but no less confusing when he dug deeper. He brightened up a room the moment he walked in. Prompto's had a sort of energy that Noctis thought should have exhausted him, but instead he found it almost intoxicating. Parting ways after lunch became the hardest part of his day. But sometimes, when Prompto thought nobody was watching, all that warmth would fade away. Noctis would often find himself staring at the cold, blank expression that seemed so foreign on Prompto's face.

_It doesn't suit him,_ Noctis thought as he stole a glance. _Guy like that shouldn't ever have to feel like... whatever that is. Looks pretty bad today, too._ He looked back down to his notes, writing on autopilot without listening to the droning teacher. _Maybe I can try to cheer him up? Grab some food, stop by the arcade, something like that._ Noctis mulled the thought over for a few minutes before pulling out his phone under his desk.

_ Noctis _

_11:18 am_

_Don't worry about dinner tonight. Making plans._

_ Ignis _

_11:19 am_

_Isn't there a class you should be paying attention to right now?_

Noctis rolled his eyes and shoved the phone back in his pocket. It buzzed again a few minutes later.

_ Ignis _

_11:21 am_

_Plans with whom?_

_ Noctis _

_11:21 am_

_Prompto. The guy I told you about._

_ Ignis _

_11:22 am_

_We agreed that I would meet with him before he set foot in your apartment._

_ Noctis _

_11:24 am_

_Compromise: public places only._

The _Ignis is typing_ animation popped up and went away six times before Ignis apparently settled on an answer.

_ Ignis _

_11:31 am_

_Please be careful, Noct._

Noctis smiled softly to himself. For all his worrying, he knew Ignis was cautiously hopeful at the thought of Noctis making other friends. He assured Ignis that everything would be fine and that yes, he would stop texting in class now. Not that he actually paid attention when he did.

The bell rang at the end of the period, and Prompto turned toward him with his usual goofy grin. All traces of his empty expression were long gone, as if Noctis had imagined it.

“Why isn't it lunchtime yet?” Prompto whined in the hallway. “Why did we think signing up for the latest one was a good idea?”

“It's that dry so-called fish today. I'm in no rush.” Noctis pretended to gag.

“You're crazy, Noct. That stuff's tasty.”

“I've gotta get you some real food, buddy. You're the one who sounds crazy right now.” He met Prompto's eyes to gauge his reaction, careful not to crash into anybody around them. “We should do that today. Meet up after last period and find a place we can walk to.”

Prompto's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and for a minute they walked in silence. Noctis stopped outside the door of their next class. He crossed his arms gave Prompto a look that he hoped made it clear that he was waiting on an answer.

“That sounds fun, but rent's due this week. Can't really go spending on anything I don't need right now.” Prompto glanced away with an unexpected look of frustration.

“I'll pay. It's no big deal.” Noctis smiled at the way Prompto's face lit up. _That's a much better look for him._

“Alrighty, it's a date!” Prompto flashed him a teasing smirk and gave him a smack on the back of his shoulder as he slipped inside the classroom.

Noctis felt his mind freeze, shut down, and restart. He didn't register that he had stepped inside and taken his seat behind Prompto's until their teacher's voice brought him back to reality. _Okay, I'm being stupid. He was joking about the date part. So could you maybe not overthink everything for once?_

He was well aware that entertaining that particular train of thought was a bad idea. Noctis had come to terms with his own preferences the year before, although he never told anybody. People were trying to pry into his personal life enough without adding that to the mix. And since he was still equally attracted to girls, he assumed it would be a nonissue. He'd marry some noblewoman, have an heir, and live a normal life as a normal king. No problem.

Until a certain adorable, blonde goofball who treated him like an actual person instead of royalty came along and ruined that plan. But Noctis knew this song and dance. He'd crush for a few months and move on. Simple. No point in scaring off the only friend who wasn't obligated to hang out with him while he waited for it to go away.

So he waited by the front doors of the school for their absolutely-not-a-date. It didn't take long to spot Prompto in the crowd of students. Not too many blondes in Insomnia. He grabbed his shoulder and motioned for Prompto to follow him somewhere less busy.

“We've got two options. We can go here,” Noctis pointed to a restaurant displayed on his phone, “which has some pretty amazing food. Or we can go for fast food and have money left over for the arcade.”

“Since when do princes have budgets?” Prompto asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You know, contrary to popular belief, I don't actually have free access to some limitless royal vault.” He intentionally neglected to mention that his own rent was almost due, and he'd used most of his extra money for the month. This trip was pushing it either way.

Prompto hummed in thought. “Let's do the arcade thing. I've never been to one.”

They made their way down the sidewalk, several other groups of students around them chatting and laughing as they headed toward the same place. Prompto was oddly silent, looking behind them occasionally and fidgeting with the hem of his uniform's jacket. His lips were pressed together in a hard line.

“Something up?” Noctis asked with a light elbow to Prompto's ribs.

“Nah, just...” he glanced back again. “I thought I heard my name a couple times.”

“Huh. Guess people are still talking about you.” Prompto stared at him and blinked a few times, and Noctis had to stop himself from laughing at the ridiculous level of confusion on his face. “You seriously never noticed?”

“Um, no? Why would people want to talk about me?”

“Some people have been trying to get close to me for years, and it took you all of 30 seconds. They've been trying to figure out what makes you so special.” Noctis expected Prompto to have a heyday with that piece of info. Instead, he only looked more nervous. When he looked up and caught Noctis' concerned stare, he suddenly perked up and grinned. His changing moods never failed to catch Noctis off guard.

“So what does make me so special, Noct?” _I could go on all day._

“Not knowing who I am was a pretty great start. The rest sorta worked itself out.” He ended the conversation before he could go on by stepping inside the greasy fast food joint, Prompto hurrying in behind him. He watched his friend's eyes dart around the room, taking in every detail and almost missing Noctis walking up to the counter without him.

He ordered for both of them. They both got the most popular burger on the menu, but Noctis rattled off a list of ingredients he wanted them to remove or add to his. He shot a glare at Prompto's poorly-hidden laugh beside him.

They found a table in the back corner on the building, out of the way of the front area and the stares from classmates and strangers. Prompto wasted no time tearing into his burger. He never stopped long enough to comment on the taste, nearly inhaling it before Noctis could get halfway through his.

“Okay, you win,” he said as he wiped flecks on grease off his face. “This is _way_ better than school food. I'd probably die if I went to that other restaurant.”

“It's not going anywhere. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah...” Prompto frowned in thought while Noctis finished his own meal. Then, abruptly, he spoke up again. “Are you really allowed to just make plans out of nowhere like this? Like, doesn't the King need to know not to raise the alarm when you don't come home?” Noctis shrugged.

“I don't even live near the Citadel. They let me have an apartment close to school.” A look Noctis couldn't place crossed Prompto's face for a split second before it passed.

“Isn't that some kinda huge security risk, bro?”

“Nah, it's all good. Niffs have never made it into the city before.” Noctis gathered up their trash to throw away. “C'mon, that stuff's boring. I wanna make it to the arcade before it gets crowded.”

Noctis did discover a few more things about Prompto before the night was through. He had never had the chance to play video games in his life, but he had a knack for them. Sure, he was awful at first, but it never took him too long to spot what he was doing wrong without much guidance from Noctis. There was some hidden talent there. Prompto's reaction time and reflexes surprised him, and his quick thinking only further proved Noctis' theory that he was smarter than he was able to show with the teachers he was given.

The Game Over screen flashed on Noctis' screen, but he never saw it. He knew he was staring at the way the lights danced over Prompto's face, and the spark of excitement in his eyes every time he beat a level, and the way he would chew on part of his lip when he was concentrating on a tough fight. He knew, but he couldn't look away. And the only thought that could cross his mind as he took it all in was, _Well shit._

They parted ways after sunset, walking together for a few blocks before they had to take different turns. When Noctis finally made it into his apartment and collapsed on the couch, he pulled out his phone and opened up his last conversation.

_ Noctis _

_9:04 pm_

_So you know more about laws and customs and all that than me._

_ Ignis _

_9:06 pm_

_I do. Is there a reason you're bringing this up?_

_ Noctis _

_9:07 pm_

_I need to ask you something. In confidence._

_ Ignis _

_9:07 pm_

_My lips are sealed._

Noctis hovered over the keyboard for several minutes before he started typing. For a few seconds he considered dropping the subject, but he didn't think Ignis would let it go so easily.

_ Noctis _

_9:15 pm_

_Hypothetically, what happens if a prince can't shake a really stupid crush on a guy?_

 

* * *

 

“Prompto, reporting in. Oh boy, do I have some juicy info for you guys today. Noctis doesn't live in the palace. He's alone in some apartment with no guards. Nobody even knows where he is if he leaves. I'll see if I can figure out where it is. The rest of today's stuff isn't as fun, but maybe you can do something with it? He's got some sort of budget, so he's not living in the lap of luxury wherever he's staying. And he's really picky with his food. It's kind of ridiculous. Whatever you're planning for him, you can probably cross poisoning his food off the list of ideas. Oh, and I got a confirmation that I'm the only person in the school he talks to. No wonder he tells me all this stuff. Anyway, that's all for now. End report.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Prompto next time! As sick as I feel right now, I'm really glad I got to write Noctis crushing while Prompto is actively betraying him. Because apparently I like suffering.


	4. Golden Opportunity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy updating two days in a row because I edited most of this one to procrastinate on writing the previous chapter.
> 
> By the way, I'm also battleselfie on tumblr. You guys should come talk to me about these boys.

All that time worrying about the dangers of spying on a prince, yet the whole thing proved to be pretty stress-free. Noctis was easy to be around once Prompto got used to how to act with him. A little hard to read at first, but he figured out the subtleties of his expressions over time. His mission became a waiting game. Eventually, something would frustrate Noctis. A training session gone wrong or being chewed out over something small. Prompto was guaranteed to be almost buried in information about his personal life when he vented. All the times in between, their one-sided friendship was mostly full of phone games and bad jokes. Prompto could live with that.

So no, the stress in his life didn't come from his mission. It came from homework. He had only had a very basic education. He was literate and knew elementary-level math, which wasn't nearly enough, but he was able to scrape by in class with Noctis' occasional help. He knew absolutely no Lucian history. Prompto was interested in his science classes, but there was enough math mixed in to make it frustrating.

At first he didn't care much, but a message from Verstael reminded him that flunking out would compromise the mission.

Still, he managed. Every time he slept in peace rekindled his desire to succeed. Even more so with the small new mattress sitting on the floor. Prompto didn't know they made beds that soft until he went to buy one. His fridge had a decent supply of food he would have killed for once, the shower never ran out of hot water, and he hadn't seen Verstael's face in eight months. As far as he was concerned, this was paradise.

Prompto reached for his phone to record his most recent report. The nerves had faded with each week. It all felt like part of the routine by then.

“Prompto, reporting in. Noctis is getting annoyed with his political reports. Apparently he doesn't go to the meetings himself, but he gets the notes later. He said he doesn't have time to read them because of school, so he wants his advisor to give him the details instead. I'm not getting any info on what's actually in those reports, but we still know that he's always out of the loop. I'll have to see what I can dig up on this advisor of his. End report.”

He hit send, closed the app, and opened up a game he had in progress with Noctis. A pang of guilt hit him at the quick switch from traitor to friend. Prompto wouldn't say he was exactly attached, but Noctis was an okay guy. Taking advantage of his friendship had started to feel... slimy, almost. Like something clinging to his skin that he couldn't wipe away.

Prompto must have made a careless move while he was distracted, because the _Defeat_ screen popped up before he got his next turn. A text came through seconds later.

_ Noct _

_1:36 pm_

_That's funny. I thought you said you were going to “totally destroy” me this match._

_ Prompto _

_1:36 pm_

_Keep bragging. It'll only make victory that much sweeter._

_ Noct _

_1:37 pm_

_Can't stop this win streak, buddy._

_ Prompto _

_1:38 pm_

_Well somebody has to take you down a few notches before you go mad with digital power. You'll thank me later._

Noctis was usually quick to respond and eager to keep a conversation going, but there was a delay before the next text came through.

_ Noct _

_1:52 pm_

_Do you want to come over? I'm bored out of my mind._

Prompto read the text over a few times, not sure if he believed what it said. They had only ever talked at school or over text, with a few trips to the arcade here and there. He knew Noctis didn't live in the palace any more (he got a seriously happy response to that particular report), but even going to his apartment... That slimy feeling crept back up his arms and across his chest.

He tried to shake off the sensation. _Don't start getting second thoughts now, you idiot. He trusts you enough to be alone and not guarded with him in his own apartment. This is golden._

_ Prompto _

_1:57 pm_

_Sounds awesome. But how am I supposed to get there?_

_ Noct _

_1:57 pm_

_Ignis is coming over with reports. I'll have him swing by your place first._

Prompto swallowed hard past a newly-formed lump in his throat. Noctis had told him about this guy before. He sounded like some sort of genius, and Prompto had to assume a future king's advisor would be harder to fool with his usual act. Was this really a good idea? He needed time to prepare for a meeting like that. But no, it would be too suspicious to back out now. He sent Noctis his address and said he'd be waiting, then rushed to the bathroom.

He was halfway through a practiced mirror speech about his past and motivations when he heard a knock on the front door. He plastered his most winning smile on his face and swung the door open, refusing to react to the intimidating presence that quickly flooded the room.

“Hey! Ignis, right?” He looked younger than Prompto expected. Maybe seventeen? Eighteen? But he had the eyes of a much older man, cold and calculating as he gave Prompto a once-over.

“Yes. And you must be the classmate His Highness plays games with all day instead of studying or going to training sessions.” Prompto's smile faltered while Ignis craned his head to look inside the apartment. “Although you could teach him a thing or two about keeping your living space clean.” Six, was this his advisor or his mom?

“Oh, uh... thanks?” Ignis only gave a short nod and gestured for Prompto to follow him to the car.

The start of the ride was filled with a silent tension. Prompto was having a hard time reading this guy, and he didn't know what mask to put on to win him over. He had to try something, though. Gaining his trust was just as important as gaining Noctis' if he was going to pull this off.

“Thanks for picking me up. Hope it wasn't too far out of your way.”

“It was only a small detour.” Ignis' expression shifted slightly. “Do you mind if I speak plainly with you?”

“Yeah, sure. Go for it.”

“Noct has never been one to make many friends.” Prompto made note of the nickname. Maybe those two got along better than he thought. “The few he has grown close to have all been from families closely connected to the crown. You, however,” Ignis stopped to glance at him while they waited for a light to change, “are unknown to us. While many are glad he's finally connecting with other people, there has been some concern surrounding your intentions.”

Prompto forced himself not to look away. He couldn't afford to act as nervous as he felt.

“So why, exactly, did you seek to befriend a prince?”

“I, well... I mean, I didn't even know he was a prince until he told me. Noct was just some guy I sat next to in class, ya know?” He let out a laugh that might have been a tad too forced, but he hoped it worked for this. “Dude, if I was trying to use him for royal money or something, I'd have more furniture than that tiny mattress on the floor.” He caught the corner of Ignis' mouth twitching upward for a split second.

“I was more concerned about attempts to gain political influence. I can't say you seem the type, though.” Noctis was waiting outside the apartment lobby when Ignis pulled up. Before Prompto could open the door, Ignis grabbed his shoulder. “He cares for few. Do try not to upset him.”

_Well that sounded very, 'Break his heart and I'll break your face.'_ Prompto would have laughed if he wasn't anxious to the point of feeling physically ill. At least it was over for now.

Ignis got out to hand over the political reports, said something that Noctis rolled his eyes at, and wished them a good day before he drove off.

“Well, he's one weird guy,” Prompto said when they stepped into the elevator. Noctis shrugged.  
  
“Specs means well. He just takes some time to get used to.”

“Specs, huh? So what level friend do you have to be to unlock nicknames?”

“You'll get one when I figure out something more ridiculous than Prompto.”

“Ouch.” He dramatically covered his heart with his hand. “That hurts, Noct. Really digging in deep with that one.” Noctis laughed and elbowed him playfully.

“You know I'm not wrong.” He hesitated as they reached the door to his apartment. “It's, uh... kind of a mess in there. Just so you know.”

“Oh, c'mon. How bad could it-- Oh.” The place looked like the aftermath of a vicious war between clothes and trash. Hundreds dead, even more wounded. Some innocent dishes were caught in the cross-fire. “Wow, man. That's almost impressive. Think those girls at school would still be drooling over you if they knew this is what they would have to keep up with?”

“Maybe I should show them, then.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward another door. “My room's not bad right now. We can sit on the bed if you don't want to help me clear the couch.”

The room was still a mess, but at least it wasn't covered in actual garbage.

Things weren't much different from their weekends at home. They still played the same phone game against each other for hours, and Noctis still got more smug with each win. The only big change was the voice pressing at the back of Prompto's head that kept reminding him that he was in the prince's home, in his room, sitting on his bed. It was funny, though. Being there made Noctis seem more like a normal teenager than he ever had before. It was kind of nice to see him out of his school uniform, and Prompto caught himself staring at the unfamiliar sight more than once.

Another match was well underway, and for once Noctis didn't have an obvious lead. Their scores passed each other over and over again, but finally, with a last second a-ha moment and one perfect move, Prompto saw the _Victory_ screen for the first time. Prompto jumped up off the bed, threw his hands in the air, and cheered. No acting, no fake personalities. Just pure, unbridled excitement.

“Take that! Finally 'Noct' that win streak back down to zero, baby!” And Noctis... was he pouting? _He'd probably kill me if I told him how adorable that looks._

“You got lucky. We're going again.”

“Wow, I sure would love to, but,” he stretched his arms over his head and gave an exaggerated yawn, “it's getting late, and I don't think Ignis wants to wait up to take me home all night. Guess I'll just have to enjoy being the reigning champ for a while.” Noctis smirked.

“Oh, he's definitely in bed by now. Looks like you have no choice but to stay over and let me kick your ass again.” Prompto froze. Was that a real offer? No, he was probably just kidding. Of course he was.

“I, uh... I don't have anything to sleep in, so, um...” he sputtered out. Without a word, Noctis reached into a pile clothes and tossed a few items in Prompto's direction, which he barely caught. “Don't worry, that was the clean pile. I need a shower, so you can change in here while I'm gone.” Before Prompto could even think of a response, the door clicked behind Noctis and he could hear the water start running in the next room.

He stared down at the clothes in his arms. A pair of soft pajama pants and a tank top, both matching shades of black. Did his wardrobe have any actual colors? For a moment he considered leaving and walking home. Something about the whole day felt off. But leaving could compromise-- _Shit, the mission! I forgot about the mission. I was having so much fun that..._ He didn't want to let himself finish the thought. _What the hell am I doing?_ Prompto ran a hand through his hair. When he heard the water shut off, he knew the decision had been made for him. He scrambled to get changed. The drawstring knot on the pants had barely been tied when Noctis walked back in.

Prompto's gut twisted, and the overwhelming gross feeling from that morning covered him from head to toe. Noctis had on a similar outfit to his own with longer sleeves, his hair laying flat and damp and clinging to his face, in a room that could only be called clean by his standards. It all seemed so positively normal. Prompto didn't feel like he was looking at a target or a ticket to freedom. He didn't even feel like he was looking at a prince. He was looking at a friend.

_You can't do this._

“You okay, Prompto?”

“Yeah, I'm... I've never stayed the night at a friend's house before, so...” _Are you really his friend if you have to keep lying to him?_

“And I've never had a friend stay the night. Sounds pretty win-win.” He plopped down on the middle of the bed, and Prompto carefully sat back down on the edge, lost in thought. He felt the weight shift on the bed behind him. “Do you seriously sleep with this thing on?” A small tug at the green and white wristband that hid his codeprint yanked him back to reality. He jumped backwards on instinct, tearing his arm away and clutching his wrist with his other hand.

“Sorry, I...” He cleared his throat and looked away from Noctis' perplexed face. “It's personal. Can... can we just leave it at that, Noct?”

“Yeah, sure. I'm sorry. I didn't mean--” Prompto waved his hand dismissively.

“Don't worry about it.” Somehow the silence that followed made things even worse. Prompto dug through the pockets of the pants he had changed out of and grabbed his phone. “Wasn't I supposed to be beating you in a game by now?” Noctis took the hint. He seemed just as ready to leave the other conversation behind.

Prompto did not, in fact, beat Noctis at anything else that night. He almost grabbed Noctis' phone to cheat when the prince fell asleep mid-match in the middle of the night, but he knew it wouldn't be the same.

When he was sure Noctis wasn't waking up any time soon, Prompto carefully slipped out to go to the bathroom. He wasn't sure how long he watched his own reflection, letting his thoughts wander. _You spent so long worrying about becoming a mindless tin can, but have you been any better out here? It's not like you've been thinking for yourself. This is all_ his _plan. You've been played, Prompto. Simple as that. And what are you even going to do about it? Stop sending reports and pretend it never happened? They'll kill you the first chance they get. But you'll get Noct killed if you keep it up._

He leaned his elbows on the edge of the sink and put his head in his hands. _So much for never getting attached._

When he finally dragged himself out of the bathroom, he realized he never asked if Noctis expected him to sleep on the couch or not. The bed was definitely big enough for it to be no issue, but was that crossing a line? Prompto wasn't sure. He took a few steps toward the couch to see how messy it actually was, but something caught his eye before he made it there.

The political reports, sitting plain as day on the kitchen table. An idea struck. It was a stupid idea and he knew it, but it was all he had. With one last check over his shoulder to see if the door was closed, Prompto began flipping through it.

Most of the report was nonsense to him. Talks of taxes and citizen petitions and new laws. But a few dozen pages in was a section labeled “Military.” Suspicions of Niflheim plans, emergency procedures in case of an attack, speculation on the weaknesses of “MT” troops (a term he grimaced at). Niflheim would kill for this.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he opened his report app and quickly scanned his codeprint before covering it again. He went to the corner of the apartment farthest from the bedroom and hit record.

“Prompto, reporting in. Big milestones today. Noctis invited me into his apartment. I'd say he fully trusts me, so I can push for more personal info soon. He finally fell asleep about an hour ago. And get this; he left notes from a big military meeting out in the open for anybody to see. There's some seriously great stuff in here.”

He gave the longest report of his eight months in the Crown City. It was detailed, full of critical info, and composed entirely of absolute bullshit Prompto made up on the spot.

“I'll see if I can get more of these later. End report.” Prompto was grinning to himself when he hit send. _Okay, I can totally go for the whole double agent thing. Keep my life here and help out Noct in the meantime. Maybe save a life or two in the war. As long as nobody figures it out, I'll be fine._

Prompto took a long look at the cluttered couch before heading back to Noctis' bedroom. He carefully slipped under the covers as close to the edge of the bed as he could get. The adrenaline kept him awake a few hours longer, but he eventually drifted off with a peaceful smile on his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for the most part, I'm a "don't plan too much, just let things happen" sort of writer, but I did know from the start that I wanted Prompto's first betrayal to the Empire to be before his first year in Insomnia was up. I didn't want the others to know yet, though. You've put yourself in one hell of a tricky situation, kid.
> 
> Meanwhile, Noctis is still caught up on the sight of Prompto wearing his clothes.


	5. A Better Teacher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So because somebody pointed out something I missed in the last chapter, I want to add a little disclaimer: There are going to be things that an actual spy should notice or think about to keep their cover, but those things don't always come to mind while I write. I'm not a very smart guy. Like, I graduated high school with almost straight Ds and flunked out of community college. This story is just a fun little thing I do with my free time, so I hope any obvious oversights don't bother you guys too much.
> 
> On a lighter note, I had fun writing this chapter! It's one of the ones where I only had a vague idea where it was going and just rolled with it, which is always a good time for me.

Their first year of high school came and went, with Prompto barely scraping into the next year with Noctis' help. He had commented a few times how it was a shame Prompto hadn't gone to a better school before. Something about how he really got the hang of things if somebody explained it the right way. Prompto was never sure what that “right way” was, but Noctis seemed to have some idea of it. The way he went over their lessons clicked in a way it never did with the actual teachers.

Prompto had no clue that could extend past school until one day that summer. Noctis had to leave for training the morning after Prompto had stayed the night. Prompto had awoken to an empty bed with a note on the pillow that simply said, “Training with Gladio. Help yourself to food and games.” The writing was sloppier than usual, and Prompto chuckled at the thought of Noctis forcing himself out of bed so early. He would have loved to see that face.

He paused the game he was playing when the lock on the door clicked a few hours later. Noctis walked in with an uncharacteristic bounce in his step, usually so tired after training.

“Is that a smile before noon? Watch out, everybody. Somebody replaced the prince.” He leaned back with a grin when Noctis rolled his eyes.

“You're hilarious,” he deadpanned. “I was gonna tell you how we talked about you at the end of the session today, but maybe I'll make you wait.” Prompto perked up in his seat.

“Oh, c'mon, I was just teasing! You gotta tell me.”

“Well...” Noctis dragged the word out and smirked as he flopped down and laid on the couch, kicking Prompto's leg as he landed. “If you insist. Iggy made a really interesting suggestion today when he dropped in.” He angled himself to watch Prompto's expressions before continuing. “Said that anybody spending more time with a prince than his own Shield should have some idea of how to defend himself. It's been years since the last time Niffs came for me, so I guess he's worried it's only a matter of time.”

Prompto mentally cursed himself for shifting uncomfortably at the last part. It had been months since he had to put on much of an act around Noctis. He was getting out of practice.

“What? Don't like the idea?”

“No! I mean, no, that's not the problem. I do like it, just...” he bit his lip nervously, “I'm not sure I'd be any good, you know? I'm not exactly the strongest guy, Noct.” If they already chalked him up as a failure when he was training daily, how bad would he be almost a year out of practice? Just the thought was embarrassing.

“Neither was I. Gladio still kicks my ass most of the time. You really can't be much worse.” Noctis propped himself up on his elbows. “You don't have to, but the offer's open if you want to go with me tomorrow. Figured you could stay here another night and decide by morning.”

Prompto mumbled an agreement, turned away, and unpaused his game. He knew Noctis was still watching him closely, but he tried to ignore it. _I could always use this for a report. See how good Noct is and completely undersell him. Might give him the element of surprise when--_ He was almost relieved when a Game Over screen interrupted his thoughts. Thinking about Noctis fighting with his home country still made his skin crawl.

Several hours of gaming and casually chatting later, the lock clicked again and Ignis walked in. Prompto had spent enough of his days there to learn that Ignis was prone to showing up with no warning, but Noctis hardly seemed to care. He nodded to the two on the couch.

“Good afternoon, Prompto. Noct, have you spoken to him about our discussion?”

“A bit. I told him he had 'til morning to decide.” Ignis hummed in response, and Prompto thought he saw a hint of disapproval in his eyes. He made his way to the kitchen, surprisingly clean since his last visit, but only because it was unused.

“Prompto, if you could?” He handed the controller off to Noctis and pushed himself up off the couch. Once Ignis had learned Prompto could follow simple cooking instructions without burning the building down, he enlisted his help for lunch when they were both there. It wasn't like Prompto was exactly a good cook, but he was leagues better than Noctis.

Ignis rattled off a list of ingredients for him to grab while he pulled what he brought out of his own bag. The two shared a sly smile as Ignis positioned the vegetables for the meal out of Noctis' line of sight. They had made a game out of this. How much could they hide in the food before the picky prince noticed? They were at almost a month since the last time they got caught.

When there was nothing left that he could help with, Prompto leaned back against the counter Ignis was working on and crossed his arms. “So, what's the deal with this training thing? It's your idea, right?”

“It is.” He looked up from his mixing to meet Prompto's eyes. “Do you understand the potential consequences of this friendship of yours?”

“I mean, kids at school come up with the craziest rumors. But I'm guessing that's not what you meant.”

“With Noct insisting on living outside the palace, there's a certain level of danger in his life that we're all well aware of. While the Empire has never been bold enough to make an attempt on his life within the wall, it would be foolish to discount the possibility.”

“Then shouldn't you or Gladio be here? Or some of the Glaive or something?” Ignis sighed.

“He refuses any offers of protection. I understand the desire to try to live normally, but he's putting both of you at risk this way. You may as well live here, after all.” Ignis gave him a long look, lips pressed tightly together. “Noctis didn't want to hear my idea until I reminded him you could get caught in the crossfire.”

“Seriously?”

“His Highness cares deeply for you.” Something in his eyes was almost... amused? Was this funny somehow? “Regardless of his reasons for accepting, Gladio and His Majesty both agree that having somebody Noct trusts armed, trained, and living with him is worth investing in.”

Prompto fidgeted with his fingers. The King himself was involved in this decision? Part of him was amazed at how effective a spy he could have been with trust like that. If he was actually doing his job, that is. “I, um...” he started after a pause. “I'll do it. But I guess I should let you know my dad tried to teach me swords and axes and all that when we lived outside the city. I was... kinda awful, actually.”

“Is that so? Did any come more naturally than the others? Surely we can work with something.”

“I liked the guns. Didn't really get to practice much, but they worked better for me.”

“We don't do much firearm training, but we do have a small range. I'm sure we can find something suitable for you. Noct might walk you through the basics since he's the only one among the three of us who has used them before.” Ignis scooped the meal out onto plates and slid one of them toward Prompto. They returned to the couch and updated Noctis on the plan over lunch.

When he wasn't looking, Ignis and Prompto shared a quick thumbs up over one more meal that Noctis didn't notice his least favorite foods in.

That night, Prompto slept in Noctis' bed as usual, borrowing his clothes again for his unplanned extra night. He drifted off quickly, but his mind refused to let it be peaceful.

_Endless training sessions, heavy wooden weapons hitting so hard they cracked ribs, dim lights barely showing blood coughed onto the floor, a room echoing with gunshots until he heard them when they weren't there. Get up. Go again. You're not allowed to stop. A kick to the fractured side that almost made his consciousness slip. Almost as bad as the meetings after. Disappointment, useless, a waste. Should have just converted him early. He can't amount to anything. Better off in the labs at this point. At least we could stop wasting time on him._

Prompto woke up in a cold sweat long before the alarm went off. His eyes stung. Was he crying? He didn't remember, but he felt like he had.

He dragged himself to the bathroom and dug to the bottom of the small bag of toiletries he had kept in Noctis' apartment for the last few months. After a few frustrating minutes, he found the case for his contacts. _I really need to stop getting the ones you sleep in. Wonder how long it's been since I switched them out?_ He blinked a few times as he placed his lenses in the solution. Prompto never liked keeping them in after crying. It didn't happen often, but they always felt uncomfortable when it did.

Again he searched through his bag and pulled out the rarely-used pair of glasses. They had finally retested his eyes and got him new ones before they shipped him out to Lucis. It was a simple pair of black frames, but at least he could see.

He settled in on the couch with a game, and it was nearly an hour before Noctis stumbled out of his room with bedhead and bags under his eyes. He gave Prompto a blank stare for a few moments, and he could almost hear his brain struggling to start itself up so early.

“Prom, is that...” he shook his head. “Tell me I'm not crazy and you haven't been wearing those this whole time.” Prompto stifled a laugh at Noct's sleepy confusion.

“Nah, contacts were just stinging this morning. I keep a pair around.”

“That gonna mess with training?” His genuine concern as he took the cushion next to him caught Prompto a little off guard.

“Well... Ignis does it, right? But I'll probably just see if I can find my spare lenses. They're in my bag somewhere. I really need a better system for that thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck with a laugh. When he looked back to Noctis' face, he had an expression Prompto couldn't quite place. He was covering up... something. Trying to bullshit the bullshitter, apparently. He considered ignoring it, but Prompto's curiosity got the better of him.

“Something wrong, dude? You're giving me a seriously weird look.”

“No, I...” He coughed. “Just trying to figure how you've stayed here for months and I never figured this out. Surprised me is all.” Noctis glanced away. “I need to change. Find yourself a pair of sweats in the pile if you want them. Trust me, you wanna dress comfortable.”

He did as he was told and returned to the bathroom, but his spare lenses were nowhere to be found. Prompto let out a hum as he nudged his glasses up his nose. _Oh well. I've fought in ones I could barely see through._

Once they were changed and waiting outside the apartment building, a car Prompto didn't recognize pulled up to the curb in front of them. An absolute monster of a man stepped out to greet them. From a distance, Prompto guessed that his head might reach the guy's shoulders. Maybe. He could barely register Noctis introducing the two of them. _So this is Gladio. Six, he could probably pop my head off. How is this guy only a few years older than us?_

“Hoo boy, you're even scrawnier than Noct. Guess that's why you went for the guns, huh?” Prompto jumped when Gladio's hand clapped onto his shoulder. “We'll see what we can do with you. But not until His Laziness gets through some warp training.” Noctis groaned, but Gladio ignored him and lead the two back to the car.

Prompto's face paled when he realized they were driving straight for the palace. “Um, guys? You sure that I'm allowed to--”

“Already cleared it with security,” Gladio cut in. “It's not like you have full access, but the training wing is all good.” He looked back at him through the rear-view mirror. “Hey, lighten up, kid. You're just going to a field that happens to be inside a castle wall. It's not as big a deal as you think.”

He did his best not to look on edge as they passed through the front entrance. Some irrational part of his brain was sure the guards and staff would somehow see right through him. The others stayed a few steps ahead of him, and he was grateful when they passed out of sight through a door into a room lined with sparring weapons of all kinds. Mostly wood, with a few in plastic or foam.

Gladio pulled a one-handed sword off the wall and tossed it to Noctis, who caught it with ease. It occurred to Prompto that, for all the training he complained about, he had never actually seen his friend fight before. _This would have been golden a few months ago._ He watched with interest as Noctis stretched and warmed up, silently wondering if this would be anything like his own training.

He shook his head as the last night's dreams shoved their way into the forefront of his mind again. _Hopefully they don't treat him like that._

Gladio was digging through a pile of smaller weapons, and Prompto almost didn't see him toss something bright orange at him from across the room. He barely caught it before it hit the floor. In his hands was a plastic gun, weighted to feel close to the real deal.

“Get a feel for that while you watch. We'll get you to the range when we're done.” With a taunting grin towards Noctis, he added, "It won't take long." Prompto nodded, eyes glued to the fake pistol. It would have looked a bit like the last one he held back in Gralea if not for the color. He followed the other boys to the yard with it gripped awkwardly in his hands.

Noctis took a ready stance at one end of the yard while Gladio matched it with his own larger practice weapon. They looked almost relaxed. Prompto sat cross-legged in the dirt with his eyes fixed on them. There was a stillness in the air for several drawn-out moments, then Noctis suddenly pulled his arm back as if to strike. In one fluid motion he threw his sword, blinked forward in a flash of blue as the tip of it connected to the flat side of Gladio's now raised weapon, and leaped back with another flash as Gladio went in for the counter attack. Noctis looked unsteady when he landed, and he was already panting from the short burst of action.

“Giving up already, Noct?” Gladio asked with a challenge in his tone. Noctis scowled and rushed in on foot, strafing at the last second to do two warps in quick succession. First to the top of the wall behind his opponent then straight toward his back. The strike was weak, though. Gladio parried with ease. Noctis stumbled to the ground, and he found the wooden edge of Gladio's sword pressed against his throat.

“Three warps and a phase. About on par with last week,” Gladio commented as he reached out his hand to help Noctis up, but he refused it.

“Today was supposed to be work on lances,” he practically whined, pushing himself up enough to sit. “You know warping makes me wanna puke.”

“I also know you're one of the only people who can do it naturally, so tough shit. You've gotta learn.” His tone wasn't malicious. Prompto got the impression they'd had this conversation before. Noctis sighed and pulled himself up, brushing some of the dirt off his clothes. “Besides, did you really want a long lesson when you have to be student and teacher in one day?” Noctis' eyes moved to Prompto as if he forgot he was even there.

“Oh... right.”

“I need to pick up keys to the range. Go help him figure out how to hold that thing.” He gave the prince a pat on the back as he passed by. Just before the door closed behind him, he called over his shoulder, “You're not getting out this easy tomorrow!”

“Okay, so,” Prompto said as he stood up, “just gotta tell you that looked pretty incredible from here! Like, I know you told me you're literally magic, but I've never seen anything like that.”

Noctis laughed softly. There was sweat dripping down his face despite the short practice, and his legs looked a little shaky. “It's not that big a deal. It's just... a thing.”

“A freakin' cool thing, Noct. Not sure why they want me and this tiny pistol ready to go when you can make swords _whoosh_ right through you.”

“And then I can throw up on all the bad guys. It's a perfect plan.”

“Okay, yeah, that part sorta sucks. But the whole thing is still cool.” Prompto looked down at the gun in his hands and adjusted his grip. “So is this how you...” Noctis plucked the piece of plastic out of his hands without a word and demonstrated the grip before handing it back. Prompto furrowed his brow as he tried and failed to replicate it. _Did I seriously get that bad already? Or was I like that before?_

Noctis reached out and grabbed Prompto's hands, adjusting the angle. “You almost had it. Your left hand just needs to tilt down like this. And keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot, 'kay?” He agreed, but he wasn't processing exactly what was said to him. _Never noticed the callouses on his hands,_ he thought distractedly. _Makes sense, I guess. But I expected them to be softer._

“Hey, you still with me, buddy?” Prompto's eyes shot back up to see Noct's concerned face.

“Sorry, just thinking about... things. What did you say?”

“Gladio probably has the range keys by now. 'Bout time to head over.”

They made it to the door just as Gladio was unlocking it. He tossed the key to Noctis when they approached. “Iris is home alone today, so I'm heading out. Try not to accidentally shoot our prince, Prompto. I'd never hear the end of it.” Prompto gave the best laugh he could muster. He was going to have to practice acting again if people kept doing this.

He and Noctis geared up with eye and ear protection. The prince leaned his back against the wall behind Prompto as he approached the pistol sitting on the table in front of him. He swallowed past a lump in his throat. His last day at the Keep's range played through his head. A similar gun, a range that would be almost identical if not for the smaller size and brighter lights, the eye gear sitting awkwardly on his glasses. Even the cameras dotting the corners of the room were familiar. He half expected to hear the furious yelling of his old instructor down the range. But he knew he couldn't afford to hesitate. How would he explain why?

Prompto grabbed the pistol, flipped the safety, and held it the way Noctis showed him. He lined up the sights, took a deep breath, and unloaded into the target. When the magazine emptied, he gingerly placed the gun back down and flipped the familiar switch to bring the paper target back to him. They could only count a few scattered hits. Noctis removed his ear covers and motioned for him to do the same.

“You're way too tense. Here.” He handed him the plastic pistol again. “Hold it out like it's the real thing.” He complied, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when Noctis stepped behind him and reached forward to grab his arms. He leaned over Prompto's shoulder to look at what he was doing. “Loosen your elbows, Prom. If you go all stiff-armed every time you feel a little recoil, you'll never hit your mark.” He tugged at Prompto's arms as he said it, moving them into the right position. “Now try again like that.”

Prompto silently nodded, letting out a held breath as Noctis stepped away. He reloaded and took aim with the real gun again, careful to stay as relaxed as he could manage. It was easier said than done with his mind suddenly scattered and hazy.

He emptied his magazine again. When his thoughts cleared enough to look at the results, he fumbled to flip the safety so he could spin to face Noctis.

“Did you see that? Look!” he practically cheered as he threw his ear and eye protection to the side. Besides a few stray holes around the white background, most of the shots were clustered almost perfectly around the head. Not exactly in the middle ring, but the improvement since the last attempt was obvious. Before he had the chance to talk himself out of it, he pulled Noctis in for an overzealous hug.

Prompto's excitement was infectious, and Noctis found himself laughing along with him. “See? I knew you could do it.” He pushed at Prompto's shoulders when he squeezed tighter. “Okay, Prompto, I still feel sick. Let me get some air in.” He was almost disappointed when he had to release the prince, but that faded when he turned back toward the table the pistol was on with newfound determination.

They went through a few more targets, each time producing similar results. Noctis helped him make subtle adjustments along the way. He refused to show it, but Prompto could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. _All that training, and I nailed this in a morning. I really did it. He was right. I just needed somebody to teach me the right way._

_I'm not useless._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl the glasses thing was 20% setup for one extra parallel to chapter one's opening scene, 10% imagining Noct's reaction to seeing them for the first time, and 70% my huge weakness for this cutie in black plastic frames.
> 
> From the chapters I have now, there are two more set pre-game. I'm playing with some ideas for one more Noctis POV in there, too, but if I don't think of something solid enough for a whole chapter, I'm going to skip it and move on.


	6. Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a great example of me going, "Well, that's not what I planned to write, but I guess that's what's happening." ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The lights in the apartment were dark when Prompto stepped inside. His eyes scanned the quiet, empty living room, settling on the closed bedroom door. It was never closed when they weren't home. “Oh, I see how it is,” he said aloud to himself. “They let you out of weekend training to study, and you go home and sleep. That's a new low, man.” He stopped a few steps in when something else registered in his head. The place was clean. Spotless, even. _I sparred with Iggy all morning._ _No way he dropped by..._ _Do you really hate studying enough to clean instead? That's a legendary level of procrastination._

Prompto dropped his bag and made his way to the bedroom. No way Noctis was getting out of this without at least some jokes at his expense. Maybe he'd play some obnoxious sound on his phone right in Noct's face. But when the door swung open and he flipped on the lights, the prince wasn't sleeping. Far from it, in fact. He sat up on the bed with an unusually bright smile on his face, and it took Prompto a few moments to take in the rest of the room. Uneven streamers lined the walls, a bundle of balloons floated in the corner, and a small pile of wrapped boxes sat at the foot of the bed.

“Noct, what... what is all this?” As much as he tried to focus on all the color decorating the usually dim room, he found himself staring at his beaming friend. He couldn't help but think how nice it would be if he looked like that more often.

“You're kidding, right?” At the blank stare he got in response, Noctis stifled a laugh. “Prompto, it's your birthday.”

It suddenly felt like the colors of the decorations flooded into him. He felt a laugh bubbling up into his chest, the likes of which he hadn't felt since his first look at Insomnia. Overwhelming levels of wonder and joy that he couldn't express any other way. His legs moved forward without him thinking about it, and Noctis audibly gasped as an extremely excited puppy of a boy nearly knocked him over with the force of his hug.

“Noct, you're incredible! Like, actually the best!” He pulled back, keeping his hands on Noctis' shoulders. Prompto could swear he saw the faintest tint of pink rise into his cheeks. “How did you even know it was today? _I_ didn't know that.”

“Cor told me a while back. He had to look it up to see when you could keep a gun outside the training wing.” He laughed nervously and averted his gaze. “You turned 15 right after we met, right? Since you didn't tell me, I figured I'd make 16 something special. But... did you really not know?”

“I've never actually had a birthday party, so...” He picked subconsciously at a loose thread on his wristband. “I don't keep track of it.” It went farther than that. Hearing that he was still 14 when they met was news to him. There weren't birthday parties in Zegnautus Keep. Or calendars, for that matter. When they said he was “about 15” he felt no reason to question it.

“Damn, really? Maybe I should've invited Iggy and Gladio instead of making them keep you busy. This is kind of a lame first birthday party.”

“No, it's perfect! Seriously, thanks for this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He playfully shoved Prompto back a few inches. “How about you open your presents before you decide how great it is?”

“Oh, right. That's a thing, isn't it?” There were three boxes, two fairly small and one a bit larger. He reached immediately for the big one. His hands hovered over it for a second as it hit him that he didn't know if he was supposed to take the tape off or destroy the paper. He shrugged it off and went for the latter, haphazardly throwing strips of wrapping paper across the room. Prompto turned the box upside down and dumped the contents, earning another laugh from Noctis.

“Do us both a favor and don't do that to the other two.” Prompto picked up the soft, yellow ball of something that tumbled onto the bed.

“Is that--” His eyes lit up when he turned it around the right way. “It's a chocobo, right? Ooooh gods, what a cutie!” He squished the stuffed toy's cheeks with a laugh.

“You said you wanted to pet one, but there aren't any inside the wall. So, next best thing.” Prompto set the chocobo down so it was sitting in his lap and grabbed the next box with growing excitement. He was more careful with this one after Noctis' warning. The light glinted off a bright, silvery metal surface when he opened it, and he found himself staring in awe at the pistol inside. It wasn't like the old, worn ones they kept around for training. The gun looked completely untouched. When Prompto carefully picked it up, he found a fine engraving along the barrel that read _Prompto Argentum_ on one line and _Personal Guard to Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum_ in smaller letters below it. To the side of the writing was a symbol he recognized from Ignis' and Gladio's summoned weapons with a string of numbers and letters beneath it.

Noctis answered his questions before he had the chance to ask them. “It's the symbol of the Crownsguard. You can't actually join at 16, but Cor approved you for the security clearance since you're sort of a special case, and Gladio vouched for your training progress. Your weapon is kinda like a badge.” He gestured for Prompto to hand it over, and he did, still in stunned silence. The gun vanished in a blue, crystalline flash. “They want us to come in after school tomorrow to link you to my magic. I'm not great at doing it without help yet. You can summon it yourself then.”

Prompto laughed, and he hoped the touch of disbelief could pass for surprise about the gift. _Overly attached Niff spy gone loyal personal guard. How did my life get this weird?_

“Well, don't just sit there with your chin on the floor all day. The last one is my favorite.”

“Oh, right.” Prompto shook his head, forcing his attention back to Noctis and the room. The last box had an adhesive bow on top, which Prompto took off immediately and stuck it to Noctis' head, somewhat lopsided. “You're beautiful,” he said with a short laugh. Noctis made a show of rolling his eyes.

“Just open the thing, you dork.”

“Fine, fine.” The final box was filled with pastel tissue paper that obscured the contents. He flung it to the floor until he got a glimpse of something made of glass. One more piece out of the way, and the glass revealed itself to be a lens. Prompto stared at it for a moment before uncovering the rest of a brand new camera. And a nice one, at that. “Holy shit,” he breathed out as he turned it over in his hands. “Noct, this is...”

“You're always so amazed by things around the city, so I thought it would be cool for you to keep some of those memories. If you don't like it, I can--”

“You can pry this out of my cold, dead hands,” he said with mock seriousness, looking at Noctis through the camera. He flashed a devious grin before taking the first picture. “There, one happy memory! My own prince charming with a sparkly bow stuck to his hair. You're like one more present.”

There was that weird look of his again. Prompto had noticed it a lot lately, but he still couldn't put his finger on what it was. It was always gone as quickly as it came. He decided against bringing it up this time, and turned the screen to show him the picture.

“Okay, I look stupid. Don't keep that one.” He reached toward it, but Prompto pulled away.

“Nuh-uh, not a chance. My camera, my rules. And rule number one is that I keep whatever I want. Now come here.” He wrapped an arm over Noctis' shoulder and held the camera up with the other hand, adjusting his grip a few times until he found the button. The resulting selfie was at an odd angle and not entirely in focus, but again Prompto refused to delete it.

Noctis shook his head with a smile tugging at his lips. “I've created a monster.”

Once he was satisfied with new pictures of the room, his chocobo plushie, and themselves, Noctis suggested moving to the couch and gaming for the rest of the day. Prompto never could say no to that.

Later, he would look back and wonder if that night would have gone any differently if he had said no. Or if they had played something less competitive, or Noctis wasn't such a sore loser, or Prompto wasn't a stupidly cocky winner.

Noctis still won most games, but Prompto was finally giving him a run for his money over the last few months. He was pretty proud, if he was honest. It wasn't like he had a whole life of gaming experience under his belt like Noctis.

They had moved on to a racing game late in the night, which was usually an endless string of frustration for Prompto. Noctis always finished in first. He could barely stay ahead of some of the AI and averaged around fifth. And, of course, Noctis refused to turn the AI difficulty down to give him the dignity of second place.

A few rounds in, Prompto noticed something he was doing wrong with his turns. The adjustment got him to second halfway through the final lap, and one really well-timed item left Noctis spinning out right as Prompto passed him at the finish line. He almost didn't believe it until he heard Noctis' controller _thud_ against the coffee table and saw him slouch down in the cushions and cross his arms.

“Aw, what's wrong? Can't handle that I'm getting better than you?” Prompto said with a grin that, frankly, he knew had to be infuriating. He poked at the prince's cheek. “You lose one out of, like, twenty and you get all pouty? Damn, bro.”

Noctis swatted his hand away. “It gave you better items than me. Doesn't count.”

“First place always gets the worst items. That's part of the game. Deal with it.” Noctis only answered with a grunt. Prompto leaned over and got into his face. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened, and Prompto had to admit he had fun messing with him. “You just don't want to admit that you're not the unbeatable gaming master you think you are.” Noctis' eyebrow twitched in annoyance. He turned to properly look him in the eyes.

“Just shut up, Prompto.”

“Make me.”

He would also wonder, when Noctis retold the story later, what might have changed if he had known the full implications of that particular phrase.

There was a drastic shift in Noct's expression that Prompto didn't quite understand at first. _Whoa, he's super red. Is he really that worked up about this?_ Something in his eyes almost seemed to darken. He felt Noct's hands grab his shoulders and dig in, and suddenly he had his back pressed to the back cushions of the couch with Noctis leaning over him. He could feel the heat rise into his face and up to his ears as he looked up at his friend.

“I-- Noct, this--” he stumbled through the words. “Okay, I really didn't mean to make you mad. Just playing around. No hard feelings, righ--”

He was cut off by Noctis leaning in to press their lips together, and Prompto's whole world stopped. It could hardly be called a real kiss. Noctis' movements were full of every possible form of frustration, and Prompto's brain felt like it had short-circuited and refused to let him move.

_Noctis is kissing me. The Crown Prince is kissing me. My best friend, who could pick literally anybody he wants, is kissing this loser._

It took him a moment to realize Noctis had pulled back and was looking at him with a mix of horror and concern. “I... Fuck, Prom, I'm sorry. Six, I'm an idiot...” He started to push himself back off the couch, but it was like somebody had finally flipped the lights back on in Prompto's head. With no hesitation, he reached out, balled both hands into the front of Noctis' shirt, and pulled him back down, forcing them to crash back together.

Noctis didn't need any more encouragement. His kiss became something desperate, as if he'd never have another in his life. It was awkward, and they both knew the other didn't have any clue what they were doing, but they didn't care. Noctis breathed out a few words at a time when they would break for air. “Do you even know... how long... I've wanted this?” Prompto broke off and looked down, chuckling softly.

“Not sure I could tell you how long _I've_ wanted it.” For the first time, Prompto wished he was lying. He had suspicions about how he felt, of course. Little flashes of thought he pushed away when he'd catch himself staring or freezing up at the smallest touches. But with no point of reference, he couldn't be sure. How was he supposed to know if a crush felt different than friendship? He'd never had either. All he knew was that he didn't want this to end.

Noctis closed the gap once more, effectively cutting off his train of thought, and Prompto felt Noct's hand reach blindly toward his own. Instead, Noctis grabbed Prompto's wrist. The wristband shifted and slid under his grip, and Prompto pulled back so hard on instinct that he nearly knocked Noctis off of him. He barely caught himself on Prompto's shoulders before he tumbled over.

“Whoa, easy there.” Two worried looks met each other, and the seconds dragged by like hours. “I didn't mean to grab it, I promise. But...” He looked down to where Prompto was clutching the band in his lap. “Whatever it is can't be that bad.”

_It is._

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

_I can't._

“If it's a secret, you can trust me.”

_You shouldn't trust me._

Prompto opened his mouth to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. He worked out a shaky breath, licked his lips nervously, and tried again. “Noctis, you don't know me nearly as well as you think you do.” He could feel the prince's stare burn through him.

“Well, what if I want to?” Prompto paused for a few beats too long.

“You... what?”

“If I really don't know you, then I want to. Maybe not today, but eventually. At your pace.” Prompto couldn't meet that look of sincere care without looking away. A part of him was aware that Noctis probably wouldn't think the codeprint was anything but a weird tattoo. Even the reports he'd seen said nothing about the similar marks on defeated MTs. He could make something up and everything would be fine. But the longer he knew Noct, the harder it was to lie to him. Telling him nothing was somehow simpler.

“I... I can do that.” He tried for a laugh that didn't come out quite natural. “Be prepared for a really slow pace.”

“I can live with that.” He patted Prompto's shoulder and lifted himself off of his lap, sensing that the moment had passed. “Do you want to head to bed for a while? Oh, don't give me that look. I just want to lay in the dark and play King's Knight or something.”

They chatted for a few hours longer, talking about everything but the kiss. Prompto could sense the understanding that they would have to sort out where they'd go from here, but it didn't need to happen right that second. Noctis dozed off with his phone still lit up on his chest. When he was sure he wasn't going to wake him up, Prompto carefully slipped out of the room.

His hands shook as he stared at the scanner on his report app. He sent something the same time every week. They'd be suspicious if he waited. _Why did it have to be tonight? I need more than a few hours after all that._ He pulled the wristband off and scanned it as always, and the following screen ( _ID Confirmed: Prompto Besithia_ ) left a bitter taste in his mouth. His eyes closed as he half-whispered into the phone.

“Prompto, reporting in. As of today, I'm officially the prince's home security. I know you see the opportunity here. If you decide to send somebody, I can make sure the place is empty except for him as long as you let me know in advance. But...” he hesitated before he continued. This was a risk. “I want to cut down the number of reports. I'll be living with him full time, and there aren't a lot of chances to do this in private. Doing it weekly could risk the entire mission. You would get the important info as soon as I can get it to you. I'll wait for your answer. End report.”

He hit send and let his arm fall to his side, almost letting the phone slip out of his grasp. His free hand moved of its own accord to brush against his lips, trying to remember exactly what Noctis felt like. Prompto sighed and said to the empty room, “Just had to go and complicate it, didn't you?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that happened. 
> 
> I just want to thank all the super nice people who have commented on this. I don't always reply to every one, but I appreciate all of you <3
> 
> And since I don't think I mentioned it before, I based their school year off of the one I went to. We're still on the parts I wrote with no internet, so I couldn't look up how Japanese schools work or if there was anything canon for Insomnia's schools. Anyway, that makes the start of the year around September, and Prompto's birthday is in October.


	7. Tip of the Iceberg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was sorta odd to write. Most of them cover a couple days at most, but this one sums up the first 2-3 months after the kiss. I almost spread it over two more detailed chapters, but to be honest, I'm itching to finish uploading all the pre-game chapters I've written and get to the rest of it.

Noctis scrolled back in his texts, watching the dates they were marked with scroll by until he eventually reached the year-old message he was looking for. A text from Ignis that read, “No law explicitly prevents such a relationship, but you would still be expected to produce a proper heir. I would also consider the public opinion. Any heir would, legally speaking, be a bastard. I also can't guarantee the people of Insomnia would gladly accept their future King having relations with any man, let alone one of his social standing. People were worried enough about attempts at political influence when he befriended you. We can discuss this in full tomorrow.”

He laughed to himself as he read over it again. The following texts were far more personal and caring, asking what had sparked his crush and expressing concern for how their classmates might treat them. Leave it to Ignis to give a full, detailed answer two seconds before doting. Noctis never even had to explain that he was asking about Prompto.

It felt silly to look back at that conversation. He didn't even know if anything would come from the events of Prompto's birthday. Noctis had assumed giving in to the urge to make a real move on his best friend would answer a lot of questions about how Prompto felt towards him. Instead, it only left him more confused than ever. The kiss itself, as awkward as it had been, was better than anything Noctis dared to dream of. The rest, however, concerned him. Prompto's words played on repeat in his head.

_Noctis, you don't know me nearly as well as you think you do._

He knew that was serious the second Prompto used his full name. Still, he couldn't imagine what could be so bad that he suddenly acted so unworthy of affection.

Noctis did his best to prove him wrong. They never had a real discussion about what they were now, but it certainly felt like they were making their way toward getting together for real. Something more meaningful than a horny teenager pinning his best friend to the couch. Noct still cringed at the way he handled that.

The first week was the most uncomfortable. It was the week Prompto was officially moving the last of his belongings into his apartment, and they hardly spoke at all. On top of that, despite Noctis' reassurances that “at your pace” applied to all things, he could still sense Prompto's newfound tension in the casual touches he used to lay on Noctis with no issue. Like he had to force himself to keep doing it.

Prompto spent a lot of that time fiddling with his new gun. He left it unloaded the first few days while he got used to summoning it. Noctis could feel the subtle tug on his pool of magic each time Prompto grabbed it out of the air, tested his grip, spun it on his finger, and let it vanish. A few times, he disassembled the entire thing, turned each part over in his hands like he was memorizing it, and put it all back together again. He explained once, while Noctis watched the way his fingers moved nimbly over the pieces spread out on the table in front of him, that he wanted to make he knew their first line of defense like the back of his hand.

That was also the week he wrote to Luna about them. He considered talking to Ignis again, but he didn't want the extra pressure on Prompto if Ignis said something about it. Luna could keep it between the two of them. The letter wasn't especially long. Just a simple run-down about how that crush he told her about might be turning into something more, but he didn't know how to make sure Prompto was comfortable with everything. He taped in one of the photos Prompto had taken of the two of them. When he left the apartment building, Umbra was waiting as he always was when he was needed.

Luna's response was about what he expected, but that didn't make him any less happy to read it. She had a way of expressing her emotions in writing that Noctis could never get the hang of. Her excitement for them shone through, and she urged him to continue being patient. “You've told me many times that you know little of his past,” she wrote near the end. “If I had to guess, something may be holding him back. Let him work through it, help when you can, and don't pressure him. I have a good feeling about this. Best of luck, Noctis.”

Prompto seemed to calm down as the month went on. Luna was right. He did slowly open up more, and whatever was eating at him must have been fading into the background. It started simple. He would nudge himself closer when they sat together on the couch, sometimes leaning on Noctis fully while playing games or watching movies. From time to time, Prompto would lightly lay his hand on top of his. At the end of that first month, when Prompto's hand touched his while they laughed at a hilariously bad movie, Noctis decided to push forward on his own the tiniest bit. He intertwined their fingers and leaned closer, head resting on Prompto's shoulder.

He could feel Prompto tense and relax a few times before he settled down, and he almost missed the faint whisper over the sound of the TV. “Hey, Noct? Could I maybe, you know...” He trailed off for a few seconds before trying again. “Can I kiss you?”

“You already know the answer.” Noctis lifted his head and looked up to face Prompto. He tried his best to reassure him with a smile. Prompto teased his lip and nodded, staring so blatantly at Noct's mouth that he had to hold back a snicker. He looked up into his eyes and tentatively placed one hand on the back of Noctis' neck, searched for any sign of disapproval on his face, and pulled him in.

Their second kiss was nothing like their first. Where Noctis had poured months of want and desperation into the last one, Prompto's was filled with a level of admiration and care that had Noctis' head spinning. He felt the hand leave his neck, and instead Prompto gripped his hips and pulled in a way that signaled him to adjust their positions. Noctis swung his leg over Prompto's lap and sat with his knees on either side of his thighs.

Noctis let him take it slow, refusing to let himself push any more boundaries. He could feel a smile cross Prompto's face, and he pulled away a moment later. “Thanks, Noct,” he said in an unusually soft tone. “That was really nice.” Noctis let out a disbelieving laugh and gave Prompto a light, joking smack to the side of the head.

“You make it sound like I'm just doing you a favor. I kissed you first, remember?”

“Yeah, okay. Point taken.” Prompto's bright smile faltered for a second, and he shifted in his seat. “You're sorta digging into my legs, man.” Noctis shifted off of him without a word, settling instead for laying his head on one of the couch's pillows with his legs draped over Prompto's lap.

“So, Prom,” Noctis said, trying to sound more casual than he felt. “No pressure, but at some point we should probably figure out what we're doing about, you know, us.”

“You mean like if we're actually dating?” The blush that had faded since the kiss rose back into Prompto's cheeks as he asked.

“Well yeah, but there's all sorts of extra crap with me being a prince.” At Prompto's blank stare, he elaborated, “Like how open we want to be. My dad made sure to really enforce the laws against taking pictures or reporting on minors without permission when I started going to public schools, but the second we turn 18? All bets are off. They'll never leave you alone. And those laws won't stop kids at school from talking.” He decided against bringing up the more delicate political issues he and Ignis had gone over the year before. _One step at a time. He stresses easy. No need to dump everything on him at once._

Prompto averted his gaze and hummed in thought. After a few minutes, he chuckled nervously and said, “Didn't realize you were already planning so far ahead.” He looked back up. “You have to deal with that with or without me, right? If you can handle it, so can I.”

“The rumors will suck, too, but I bet I'll get more of that than you.” Noctis sighed.

“Like what?”

“Eh, it's nothing you've gotta worry about now. People are just going to worry that they won't get an heir if I'm into guys.” Prompto frowned and furrowed his brows.

“Guess I never knew that was a problem. Like, the heir thing makes sense, but I never really thought about...” He stopped himself, suddenly looking embarrassed. Noctis opened his mouth to ask what he was going to say, but he stopped himself. _Don't push him._

Over the next few weeks, they fell into a comfortable private life. There were few times when they were together at home when one wasn't touching the other in some way. Kisses, cuddles, or even something as simple knees rested against each other while they talked or played some game. The touches stayed innocent, but Noctis didn't mind. He was just happy to be with his boyfriend. That word alone made him feel like he was floating.

With Prompto's permission, he told Ignis, Gladio, and Iris they were together. The reactions were varied, from congratulations to excitement to friendly teasing, but in the end, nobody had any objections. Not that it would have stopped them. They collectively decided somebody could tell Regis later. He was busy those days, so discussions about how to handle the political angle of things could wait until he had more time. Besides, Noctis doubted his dad would have any issue outside of what he'd already gone over with Ignis.

Early that winter, as the two of them left their first class together to head to the next one, Prompto surprised him. Without a word, he reached between them and grabbed Noct's hand. He looked over to him, ready to let Prompto know they didn't need to be public if he didn't want to, but the look on his face stopped him. He didn't look embarrassed or flustered or nervous. He had that same gentle smile he wore so often at home, with a touch of what Noctis thought had to be pride.

They ignored the whispers always floating over from nearby desks for the rest of the day. No matter how hard some of them tried to be subtle, Noctis and Prompto could see the hurried glances and hear snippets of conversations.

Noctis suggested skipping their usual Friday arcade trip. Let people get the rumors out of their system over the weekend and deal with them on Monday. Once they had shed their winter coats inside the apartment, Noctis pulled Prompto in for a brief kiss.

“Looks like somebody got a confidence boost when I wasn't looking,” he said once he let his boyfriend go.

“Yeah, well,” he chuckled and looked away. “I dunno. I sorta felt like I needed to take the chance before it was gone.” Noctis frowned and searched Prompto's face, trying to guess the meaning behind his words.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Prompto practically jumped at the question, with a guilty look that told Noctis he hadn't meant to say that. He stared at Noctis for a moment, then rushed through a response.

“That whole heir thing, ya know? I guess it's kinda dumb, but I feel like that means this can't be a forever thing, so...” Noctis narrowed his eyes. _That's definitely not what you were talking about._ His mind raced for any other reason, and after some thought, he decided to press just a bit more.

“I told you Specs and I are working on ways to make it work, and that's a long way off anyway. You sure that's the only thing eating at you?” He watched Prompto's eyes dart back and forth between his own, guarded and questioning.

“Remember what I said on my birthday? About you not knowing me?” Noctis nodded silently. “I'm worried that someday you _will_ know me, and you won't like who I am. I know that probably doesn't make a lot of sense right now--”

“Because it's bullshit,” Noctis interjected, but there was no malice in his words. Prompto opened his mouth to say more, but Noctis started again. “Listen, I get it. There's some big piece of the Prompto puzzle that I'm missing. Frankly, I don't care. Nothing's gonna change how much I love you, okay?”

Prompto stared at him for a solid minute, eyes blown wide and mouth opening and closing in a sight that would have been funnier had the topic not been so serious. When he finally managed to get a few words out, with a grin breaking his shocked expression, they caught Noctis off guard.

“I love you, too.”

Noctis' brain replayed his own end of the conversation, and he felt the blood rise to his face when his choice of words registered. He put a hand over his face, trying and failing to hold back an embarrassed laugh. “That's not exactly how I wanted the first 'I love you's to go.”

“No offense, Noct, but I'm thinking this might be a you thing. I'm not sure you're capable of planning romantic stuff out in advance.” He laughed softly at the face Noctis made. “Seriously, stop worrying so much. You should know by now that I don't mind.”

“Take your own advice, Prom.”

“Okay, fair point.”

They went about their usual Friday night plans in comfortable silence, Prompto starting a simple dinner and gathering snacks while Noctis went through their game and movie options. Noctis fondly watched Prompto mill about the kitchen. When he turned to make his way back to the living room, Noctis said, “Thanks for telling me what was bothering you. I know you have trouble with that.”

“About that,” Prompto started as he spread out bowls of chips and popcorn on the coffee table, “I think I might be ready to tell you a few things. Not everything, but...” he sighed. “I don't like keeping things from you.” He sat down and looked to Noctis for a response.

Noctis reached out and draped an arm over Prompto's shoulders, pulling him in close. “Like I said, your pace. I'm all ears if you're ready.”

“Right, okay.” He looked down at his hands in his lap. “Jeez, where to start? There's sort of a lot, and honestly, you're only getting the tip of this crap-filled iceberg here.” There was a hint of bitterness to the short laugh he let out. “You're lucky, you know. With your dad. Even with everything he has to do, he still spends time with you whenever he can. And he really cares. No doubt about it.”

When he stopped talking, Noctis tried to give a bit of a nudge. “Not on good terms with yours?”

“Understatement of the century, babe.” He leaned back and fixed his gaze the ceiling. “Used to only see him once a month. Just long enough for him to tell me all the ways I was disappointing him. And the way he raised me was...” Prompto paused. “No, I can't say for sure that I acted the way I did because of him. Maybe that was all me.”

Again, he fell silent. “You can stop if you want to,” Noctis said after a few moments.

“Nah, just a bit more. This part's important. It's just not easy to talk about.” For the first time since starting the conversation, Prompto looked Noctis in the eye. “I never cared about anybody before I met you. I used to lie through my teeth and pretend to like people to get things out of them, or to make them stop bothering me. Even grouped everybody into these dumb categories and decided they were all the same.” He sighed and glanced away for a moment. “For some reason, thinking I was different from all of them was easier than admitting every person was more complicated than some label I made up.”

He pursed his lips and watched Noctis' face closely before continuing. “There were people who called me their best friend, and I didn't even notice when they died. Like, this happened a lot. Didn't even know some of their names.” Noctis felt like he should say something, but he was stuck trying to imagine the person Prompto was describing to him. _That doesn't sound anything like him. Not even when we first met. He's gotta be exaggerating._ “Guess what I'm trying to say is I'm not exactly a good person. But I want to be. I'm trying. I don't want to be like that again, but that's still part of me, you know?”

“If you're not a good person, I'd love to see how amazing an _actual_ good person is.” Prompto shot him an unimpressed frown. “Pretty sure most bad people don't say they're bad and try to change themselves, Prompto.”

“That's... I guess not.” He let out a short, sharp breath through his nose. “That's not even half of it, Noct.”

“Well, you haven't scared me off yet.” Noctis pulled away and grabbed the controllers for a game, tossing one Prompto's way. “C'mon, you're bumming yourself out. I don't like seeing that kicked puppy face.”

Prompto took the controller with a soft, grateful smile. Noctis was getting used to how he should handle these situations. Listen, reassure him, act like it's no big deal, and distract him with something else. It was, of course, actually a pretty big deal. Noctis had to wonder about this unfamiliar person his boyfriend used to be. And one especially disturbing thought wouldn't leave him alone as the night went on. _If he didn't change until after I met him, how much of our early friendship was real?_

Noctis tried to shove the nagging idea aside. He didn't want to be upset about the night's revelations. Prompto was finally opening up, and there was no way he would dare to make him worried about doing it again.

He looked over to see the excited grin he'd grown to love, facing away from him with his eyes glued to the screen. Prompto seemed more relaxed than ever. That barely noticeable bit of tension that always pulled at his shoulders had loosened just a touch since they talked. If the price of that progress was Noctis having to silently come to terms with unfortunate truths like this one, he was more than willing to pay up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hasn't anybody told this kid relationships need communication?
> 
> Next couple chapters are probably gonna come out pretty quick since 1) they're basically done, and 2) I had a lot of fun with them ^^


	8. Another Step Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short one here. I was going to add more, but it felt forced.
> 
> The best thing I learned while writing this is that paintball pistols are a thing and now I can never see Prompto sparring with anything else.
> 
> This has a lot of me headcanoning my way through Crownsguard stuff because they really don't give much info on that, and what they do give is sorta weird and inconsistent anyway.
> 
> Edit: I forgot to title this chapter. Whoops >.>

Tension filled the yard as Noctis and Prompto slowly circled around each other, wooden lance in one's hands and paintball pistol in the other's. _I could get an easy first shot in, but if he phases out of it, he'll be on me too quick to counter. Maybe I can bait him?_

“What's wrong, baby?” Prompto said teasingly, not breaking the rhythm of his steps. “Don't tell me I have to make the first move _again._ Happens enough at home, dontcha think?” He could hear Gladio cracking up on the sidelines, and Noctis' expression changed slightly, imperceptible to anybody else.

He reared back to launch the lance, and Prompto spun around the second he saw the flash of blue vanish from in front of him. _Gotcha._ He fired at the wall a few feet above his head just as the lance stuck in, and he would've landed the shot if Noctis hadn't been ready to phase away.

The prince gracefully dropped back to the ground and lunged forward. Prompto took a risk and fired a quick couple of shots without trying to dodge. Two landed on Noctis' chest and stomach with a splash of yellow paint, and he stumbled with an undignified, pained yelp. Prompto took his chance to leap backwards and give himself the advantage of distance again.

A pause, a few breaths, and Noct warped again, stopping just short of the full throw to pop up in front of Prompto and sweep at his legs. The wooden pole connected with his calf with a painful _thwack_. He hit the ground ass-first, and gathered his senses just in time to make one last shot. Paint splattered across Noctis' face guard at the same time the tip of the lance rested on his throat.

They sat there for a few moments, breathing heavy with their weapons still held ready. It was Noctis who broke the silence and laughed first. He stuck his weapon into the dirt, tossed his face guard to the side, and held out a hand, pulling Prompto up.

“You're turning into one hell of a shot,” he said and lifted the edge of his shirt. “Damn, that's gonna be sore for a while.” He poked gingerly at one of the quickly forming welts and winced. Prompto responded by pulling up his pant leg and pointing matter-of-factly to the already darkening bruise from the last sweep.

Noctis held up his hands as if in surrender. “Okay, point taken. We're even.”

“So,” Prompto laughed, “If we tied, who picks where we get post-spar lunch?”

“That was your first clean headshot in a few matches,” Noctis said, tapping his finger on his forehead where the shot would have hit, “so I'll give it to you.”

“Give it to me, huh?” Prompto wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

Gladio pretended to gag as he walked up to the others. “Okay, enough of that. You can flirt after we go over how you did.” He motioned for everybody to sit down on the ground with him. “Noct, your warps are looking pretty clean lately. How's your stomach?”

“Still get a little dizzy if I do too many in a row, but no more stomach flips.”

“Good. But--” Noctis cut him off with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, yeah. I know what you're gonna say.”

“Well, if you _know_ that you shouldn't let your opponent throw you off your game so easily, then try not to let it happen next time. As for you,” he turned to a now grinning Prompto, “Your aim and footwork are definitely at the level I wanted. Might have to put you against Ignis more often, though. You're getting too used to how Noct moves, and Iggy's way more adaptable in the middle of a fight.”

“Yes, sir,” Prompto said with a touch of excitement in his voice.

Gladio's expression softened from the judging trainer back to the friend the two were more used to. “One more order of business before you guys head out. You pick up your uniform yet?”

“Yep!” Prompto replied. “Cor brought it over for me yesterday.” Gladio beamed and patted him on the shoulder.

“Then you're all ready to go for this weekend. Ready to make history, kid?” Prompto licked his lips and gave a short nod. A few weeks back, several months after he graduated high school, Cor and Gladio had approached him to say they believed he was ready to officially join the ranks of the Crownsguard. If he chose to, that is, and how could he refuse?

According to them, the Crownsguard historically chose its members from families closely connected to the crown, or, in a few cases, from other particularly skilled Insomnian natives. For a common boy who lived most of his life outside the wall to be admitted was unheard of. Several high-ranking members of the royal court tried to push for him to go into Kingsglaive training instead. Noctis insisted, however, and there wasn't an actual law in place forbidding it. Part of Prompto wondered if history would one day mark this as the first time somebody from an entirely different country joined, but he tried not to focus on that part too much.

Later that day, after a trip to Prompto's favorite fast food joint and a much-needed shower, Prompto found himself sitting on the couch with Noctis laying his head on his lap. They stayed in comfortable silence, clicking on their phones for hours, only speaking up to show each other pictures they thought were funny.

He heard a hum from Noctis and looked down to see knitted eyebrows and a frown.

“What's wrong, bro?” he asked. He never had dropped the casual nicknames, even after all this time. He just added things like baby, hon, and cutie to the list.

“I just realized you never showed me your uniform design. What's it like?”

“It's a surprise. Duh.”

“Shouldn't I get special viewing privileges or something? Even Cor already saw it.”

“But, Noct!” he exclaimed, putting his hand to his chest in feigned horror. “Don't you know it's bad luck to see your bride's dress before the wedding?” Noctis chuckled and reached up to lightly smack the side of his face.

“Don't be an ass.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

“Then show me the uniform.” Prompto sighed dramatically. He shook his leg to get Noctis to move his head.

“Fine. But if you laugh at it, you're making your own dinner tonight.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Noctis echoed with a smirk.

Prompto went to their room and pulled the uniform out of the closet, still covered as if it really were a dress. He uncovered it back in the living room and laid it out on the coffee table, looking away with a slightly embarrassed smile. Noctis held the vest up in his hands.

“It suits you, Prom. Wouldn't have pegged you as the type to wear coeurl print pants, but whatever.” He tossed the items over to Prompto. “You've gotta show me.”

“Am I even allowed to wear this before it's official?” Rather than answer immediately, Noctis sat up from the couch and stepped over to Prompto. He pulled him in for a quick kiss.

“Funny thing about dating the prince. You can get away with a lot of things.”

“If only I could 'get away' from the press,” he sighed dramatically. “Those vultures haven't left me alone since they could legally publish pictures, you know.” Noctis crossed his arms stared at him with a look bordering on annoyance.

“You're changing the subject. That wasn't even a good segue.”

“Can't blame a guy for trying.” Prompto stared down at the all-black uniform for a moment before shrugging and setting it aside to start working his clothes off. He was far past the days of discomfort doing so in front of Noctis.

He stripped down to his boxers and slipped easily into his new outfit. Every piece was more durable and more flexible than it looked. Prompto didn't know who made the custom Crownsguard fatigues, but they were definitely some sort of genius. He straightened out his vest, slipped on his leather gloves, and had Noctis help him tie the bandanna around his arm. Looking down at his wrist, he paused to stare at the worn-out wristband he had left on. Over two years since they first got together, and he still hadn't removed it in front of Noctis. Even in bed, or that one admittedly ridiculous time when they tried to share the shower. The thing smelled like mildew for a week after that.

Noctis moved to turn away out of habit, but Prompto grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. “It's okay, Noct.” _It's been long enough. He won't know what it is. You've gotta start telling him the big things if you don't want this all to fall apart someday. This has to be the next step._ “Covering it for this long has been sorta stupid, to be honest. You're not even going to get why. It has to stay between us, though.” Noctis agreed with no hesitation.

Prompto took a deep breath and carefully stretched the band past his glove. He knew Noctis didn't mean to stare so intensely, but it still made him shake a bit. When it had slipped past his fingers, he placed it carefully on the table, as if it were fragile, and held his wrist out for Noctis to see.

An uneven barcode tattooed in black ink stood out in stark contrast to the pale, sun-deprived skin around it. Two diamond shapes marked either end, and the top and bottom showed two codes he had memorized long ago. _0006-0204_ and _NH-01987_.

After a nod of approval from Prompto, Noctis carefully pulled his hand closer to inspect the codeprint. He wore a confused frown. A shiver ran down Prompto's spine when he gently ran his thumb over it.

“Told you it was dumb,” Prompto muttered, distracting himself by fidgeting with the new leather bracelets he hadn't snapped on yet.

“If it's that important to you, it's not dumb. But,” he sighed, “you're right. I have no clue what the hell this is.” Prompto could feel the tightness in his chest loosen a bit. _Thank the Astrals._

“For now, let's just say my dad is an asshole and leave it at that, 'kay?” At Noctis' puzzled and worried frown, he reminded him, “My pace, remember? I'll tell you someday, Noct. Promise.” The prince pulled his wrist up and laid a soft, gentle kiss on the codeprint before finally letting go.

“If you ask me, who you are now is what matters most. Don't go rushing things for my sake.” Prompto wished he could believe that, but still he smiled when he snapped his new bracelets into place. Bits of ink peeked at him through the cracks. With an unexpected sense of calm, Prompto realized that he didn't even care.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plan (once I kinda had one) was a detailed year or so to lay out the transition from spy to traitor to friend to boyfriend, plus his insecurities around his fighting abilities, then move on to what happens in-game. This was partially a transition chapter so it wouldn't skip nearly four years at once.
> 
> So yes, that means the next chapter has game events.


	9. Before the Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, this one took forever. Sorry guys! Work and school piled up, then I had to delete about a third of this chapter because the scene I wrote was so out-of-place I couldn't stand to edit it, and then updates and DLC happened.
> 
> Anyway, back to it!
> 
> Edit: Don't reread your own chapters or you'll spend half an hour fixing typos. I spelled Altissia wrong three times. Goddamn.

“Prompto, reporting in. I've confirmed that Prince Noctis will be in the Citadel the day of the treaty, but not in the signing room. His room is on the top floor, East Wing. You'll know the door when you see it. His Shield will be with him, but send in somebody who can get in close and you won't have any trouble. You already know how pitiful the prince's training has been these last few years. Bet you could take him down with the standard models. I really want to know who told you that guy was a threat. Anyway, I can't be there to help. Shield gets priority when there's only one bodyguard, so I'm on patrol to make sure the protests don't get violent. I'll make a break for it when I see the chance. See you all on the other side. End report.”

Prompto closed his phone and looked up into the mirror. Sometimes he still had trouble believing the man looking back was him. The Crownsguard fatigues he designed hardly looked like official combat gear, but nobody in Lucis could miss what the all-black outfit stood for. He had started styling his hair when his friends had done the same, and there were so many more freckles dotting his face than when he first arrived. He smiled to himself at the thought that nobody back in the keep would have recognized him at first glance.

He went through his bag one more time. A change of clothes, bathroom necessities, impractical amounts of bug spray, emergency glasses and contact solution, and, most importantly, his camera. No way he was going on this trip without his baby.

Prompto had declined the offer from Ignis to drive him to the meeting with King Regis. He knew he probably wouldn't see Insomnia again, and he wanted a chance to walk the streets and take it all in one last time. The least he could do was commit everything to memory before it was gone.

There was a decision he had to make, but he could hardly bring himself to think about it. He could change this whole thing. All he had to do was tell the King that the treaty was a trap. It would take revealing who he was, but he would save a lot of lives. On the other hand, there was no way Noctis would leave for Altissia if he knew. He barely wanted to go as it was. Even if he survived, he'd never talk to Prompto again. Save the citizens, but lose one person he cared about most. He knew exactly what Noctis would want him to choose, and that only made it worse.

He certainly didn't expect King Regis to silently make the decision for him. Every movement, every word as he addressed his son made the situation obvious. His actions were so familiar to Prompto. All of his tells were just like Noct's, clear as day after years of learning them. He acted so desperate to get a few more words in each time Noctis turned to leave. Even without all that, the sadness in his eyes said everything. _I don't need to tell him. He knows._

“I ask not that you guide my wayward son, merely that you remain by his side,” said the King. His gaze drifted between the three Crownsguard as he spoke, stopping to meet Prompto's at the end. They had met before. Short moments of conversation on the rare days Noctis attended meetings with Prompto as his guard, but never before had his eyes looked like this. A shared look of understanding passed between the two as he said, “And that you _all_ play your parts in ensuring the success of this treaty.”

It could have meant several things. Do your duty as his guard, or don't get in the way of the wedding. But deep in his gut, he got the feeling that Regis knew more than he was letting on. Where that thought should have terrified him, the lack of anything close to anger on the King's face left him oddly calm. Prompto gave him a nod, hardly more than a twitch of his head. He knew he would regret not asking how this understanding came about, but there was no time. The King was a dead man walking, and Noctis would be, too, if they didn't get out of the city.

 

* * *

 

The group set off in such uneasy silence that the Regalia breaking down was a welcome distraction. Noctis and Prompto had hardly spoken since the terms of the treaty were announced, save for one attempt to work things out that ended in Noctis practically shutting down and walking away. Ignis and Gladio were loathe to bring thoughts of the wedding back to the surface, so they avoided the topic entirely.

So, when they finally pushed the Regalia into Hammerhead only to be sent on a hunting trip to help cover the bill, Prompto couldn't be more relieved. Fighting let him let go of his thoughts. When one shot spells the difference between a voretooth bleeding out on the ground or you bleeding out in its mouth, you tend to focus on that.

Even he and Noctis fell into their familiar rhythm. They knew each other's every move before they even thought to make them. Prompto stepped to the side at the perfect moment for Noctis to warp past him, and Noctis was ready to pull him up after he slid into a point-blank shot to the creature's soft belly. For a few precious moments, the events of the last week could be forgotten.

When they finally made it back to Hammerhead near sunset, with a collection of cuts and bruises and a generous supply of dualhorn meat, they decided to rent out the caravan in hopes that their car would be ready to go the next day. Long after the other three had gone to bed, Prompto busied himself with his phone at the plastic table outside. He jumped at a voice calling out from nearby.

“Hey there!” called Cindy, the mechanic, a bounce in her step even so late at night. Looking up as she pulled out a chair across from him, he could see the fresh grease smeared over her face and clothes. Probably the result of a long day with the Regalia. “Thought I saw one of y'all still up. You're the prince's sweetheart, right?”

Prompto felt an uncomfortable mix of emotions at the question, but he tried not to let it show. “They know about that out here, huh?”

“Oh, people 'round here talked about you for weeks when the news hit. Sayin' how we might get a king who cares about what's goin' on outside the city if he's sweet on a boy who lived it.” Prompto must have made a face, because Cindy patted him on the shoulder and added, “Don't you worry. Not a lot of TVs out here, so I don't think anybody will recognize you.” Prompto slumped down in his chair with a sigh.

“That's not the problem.” Cindy stared at him for a moment before he saw it click in her head. A sympathetic smile spread across her face.

“The weddin' got you down?” He nodded. “To tell the truth, there's been talk about that. Lotta people assume she's all politics and you'll still be around.”

“That's what I said. I told Noct our history class was chock-full of kings and queens who did that. Might as well be a family tradition.” Prompto breathed out a laugh. “He said I deserve better than that. Sometimes he gets really dense when he's trying to help.”

“Think he'll come around?”

“Maybe? If I had to guess, I'd say Luna will send one of her letters and sort things out. She's good at that.”

Part of him knew worrying about the wedding was ridiculous. To him, this road trip marked the beginning of the end of his time with Noctis no matter what, as well as with his only other friends. Lucis would likely fall to Niflheim before they made it to Altissia. He would keep giving his reports for as long as it helped keep the Empire off their trail, but the second they caught on or ordered him to finish the job himself, he'd come clean and let Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio decide what to do with him.

Prompto swallowed past a lump in his throat. He'd been so close to telling Noctis. Once he decided to, it took weeks to build up the courage. Then the Chancellor had to show up and offer a treaty the King couldn't afford to refuse, and his orders for the day of their betrayal came through mere hours later. They would never forgive him now that he knew what was going to happen. It didn't matter that he was powerless to stop it, or that he didn't know any of the details of the attack. His plans changed, and all he could do was make himself useful for as long as he could. And, if he was honest with himself, he knew he was trying to delay his judgment.

He chatted with Cindy for a few more hours. She kept him distracted with talk of engines and custom parts she was trying to put together, and Prompto was convinced she was some sort of genius. The subject of the conversation started to escape him when she started to rattle off terms he'd never heard, but he was still grateful for her company. Eventually she declared with a yawn and a stretch that she had to finish the last touches on the Regalia and get to bed. They said their good nights, and Prompto made his way to his own creaky bed in the caravan.

The next morning, Noctis stumbled out the door long after the others, like they knew he would. Ignis was laying out breakfast on the cheap plastic table while Gladio and Prompto leaned over the map and tried to judge whether they could get to Galdin Quay without stopping for gas or food. A hush fell over the group when Prompto looked up to meet Noct's eyes, only for them both to look away.

Gladio looked between the two of them a few times. As Noctis sat down, Gladio pushed himself up and loudly declared, “Okay, we're not hitting the road until you two work this out. Like it or not, you can't avoid each other out here. So stop moping, start talking. C'mon, Iggy.”

“Not exactly how I would have put that,” said Ignis, standing up as well, “but I won't deny Gladio has a point.” He placed a hand on Noctis' shoulder and whispered something to him, then turned to follow Gladio without waiting for any sort of response.

Prompto watched Noctis poke at his food with a fork without eating it. After a few minutes of suffocating silence, he looked up.

“So...” they both started at once.

“You first, Noct. You're the one who has a problem with all this.” Prompto did his best to not sound accusatory. Noctis was being frustrating, sure, but he could see why their situation would upset him. Noctis opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't seem to find the words for a few dragging seconds.

“Right... I mean, I already told you that you deserve better than being some kind of, I don't know, mistress? What's the right word for...” Noctis shook his head. “Doesn't matter. Point is, I thought that I was going to-- That we would-- I didn't want an arranged marriage, okay?” Prompto stared at him, eyes wide, as the missing words and fragmented sentences put themselves together in his head.

“You wanted to marry me.” It wasn't a question. Prompto's brain shut down for a moment, the way it did the first time they kissed, or the first time Noct said he loved him. They had never discussed the possibility outside of the hypothetical political backlash.

“Yeah,” Noctis replied softly. “Normally the heir is supposed to marry pretty young. I had maybe a couple more years before they started breathing down my neck about it. I was about to ask what you thought about it when... Well, you know what happened.” _We have the worst timing, don't we? Or maybe the Niffs do._

“I know it's not your perfect love story, but I already told you I'm okay with sticking around anyway. 'Sides, don't you like girls, too? You and Luna could be one hell of a powerful couple, and the people would love her. And you'd get a real heir. This sorta solves a lot of our problems, dude.” He leaned in with a grin. “Oh! What if you had a daughter and she ended up being the Queen _and_ the Oracle someday! How cool would that be?”

For a short moment, Noctis looked amused. “I guess so. But we already talked about it. Did I tell you she sent the notebook back?” Prompto shook his head. He hadn't even seen Umbra or Pryna stop by. “She said that maybe, in another life, it could've worked. She's really great, you know? It would be weird, but I bet we could've loved each other if things were different. But with us,” he gestured between the two of them, “she doesn't feel right forcing you to become some castle secret either.” Noctis sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair. “Not that it matters. We still have to do it for the treaty. Just wish it was different, you know?”

Prompto reached out tentatively and grabbed Noctis' hand on the table. “Me too, babe. But it's not. Hate to say it, but we need to work with what we're given right now.” Noctis looked at him for a long minute before he went on. “Don't worry. It'll all work out like it's supposed to.”

Noctis gave Prompto a look he'd come to know well. Rapid flicks of his narrowed gaze from one eye to the other, searching for the words he wouldn't say. There were times when he hated that Noctis could read him so easily. Rather than ask, however, Noct reached out his other hand and placed it on top of where their fingers were intertwined. He gave a gentle squeeze. Neither of them needed to say anything more to understand that they were ready to work through things.

Prompto tried to ignore the familiar pang of guilt that twisted in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

The group arrived at Galdin Quay that afternoon. For once, Prompto was glad none of them could accurately judge the distance on their map. They were way ahead of schedule. Maybe, if they made it onto a boat before sunset, they'd be well on their way to Altissia before the Empire realized Noctis wasn't in Insomnia. Accordo was technically enemy territory, but they could still meet up with Luna and come up with some sort of plan before they figured it out.

Prompto wished he would learn that nothing in his life ever went according to plan. The voice that spoke up as they approached the resort sent chills down his spine and left him frozen a few steps behind the others.

“I'm afraid you're out of luck.” Ardyn Izunia, Chancellor of Niflheim, took a few steps closer, and Prompto's thoughts immediately flipped into panic mode. _He's not supposed to be here. They were going to take the airships. It's over. He'll tell them. We're dead._

He couldn't process what the others were saying. Something about the boats being gone, and Gladio demanding to know who Ardyn was. He walked away without a real answer, but he slowed his steps as he passed Prompto. He leaned over just long enough to whisper, “He's a long way from home, isn't he?” in a sickeningly light tone that did nothing to mask the threat beneath it.

Just like that, he was gone, and the rest of the group was content to write the encounter off as nothing more than a harmless, if a bit odd, event. He felt the specific vibration pattern that signaled a new message coming in mere minutes later.

“Hey, uh, guys?” They all turned to face him. “My stomach's sorta messed up. Mind if I go lay down for a bit while you figure out the boat thing?” Ignis gave him the sort of faint, amused smile Prompto normally saw when he would try to sneak an extra helping of his favorite meals onto his plate.

“If you want to enjoy the beach, you need only say so. I'm sure we could all use--”

“No! That's not... I'm really...” As if on cue, his visibly gagged. His reasons may have been false, but his nerves were about to kick his breakfast out onto the pier.

Ignis shot him an apologetic look. “Check the first aid kit in the trunk before you rest. You may find something helpful in there.” Prompto nodded gratefully and rushed off, not giving Gladio or Noctis time to comment. _They'll be fine. I just need a few minutes._

He paid for the caravan with his own money and slipped inside, locking the door and drawing all of the curtains as soon as he stepped in. It wasn't exactly soundproof, but he could keep it quiet.

When he opened the fake email app that hid his report program and navigated through the series of buttons and folders that hid his messages, his stomach fell further. Where the message would normally show Verstael's or another Zegnautus higher-up's name, followed by the date and time, it showed Ardyn's. _How did he send this so quickly? I thought they gave up on upgrading the program. Maybe because he's so close? Or does he have his own version?_

The message was short and simple. “Be a dear and keep our young prince on his path, would you? You've been such an excellent help so far.”

Prompto tried to wrap his head around what that could mean. He was sure his betrayal and Noct's escape would be brought to light, but the chancellor seemed almost pleased with the situation. Not that he had ever understood the man anyway. Their previous meetings were brief and only happened once a year, with a rare unannounced visit between the official ones every few years. Nothing more than little progress reports between Ardyn and Verstael while Prompto sat nervously in the room, growing more anxious the longer they talked. Even his father would admit after their meetings that Ardyn's interest in Prompto and Prompto alone baffled him.

He was prone to cryptic comments about fate and divine plans. Prompto always wondered if Ardyn's insistence that he was destined for greatness had anything to do with the Keep's refusal to give up on his training, or Verstael's inflated ego over the potential carried in his blood.

A shudder ran through him at the phantom feeling of the finger that traced under his chin the last time they had met, only a few weeks before he left for Insomnia. Prompto rubbed at the skin there in an attempt to make it go away. Whatever Ardyn had meant with his message, it couldn't be good. Nothing about him was ever good.

But what choice did he have? Ardyn's orders were exactly what he was already planning on doing. He stared at his phone, considering a response. _I've gotta at least cover my ass and make sure he's not about to turn us in. Just in case._

He fiddled with the reply options and double checked that it wouldn't send to Verstael, then said, “I could be an even better help if I actually knew what you wanted me to do. What 'path' is he supposed to be on?” Prompto bit back more questions about his motives, not willing to push his luck, and hit send. The reply was almost immediate.

“I would think it was obvious. When his city falls tomorrow, he'll aim to reclaim it. Help him. If you ever stray too far, I can give you a nudge in the right direction. I'm sure you'll see him sitting on his throne in no time!” A chill ran up his spine. His tone was too cheerful, too excited. “Do this, and the Empire will continue to believe you're working for them.”

Prompto dropped his phone to his side and laid back on one of the caravan's cots. He mumbled to himself, “If he didn't want Insomnia to fall, he'd stop it before it happened, right? So why does he want Noct to take it back?” He mulled the thought over and groaned. “It's not like I have a better plan. Maybe if I'm lucky somebody will take him down at the signing. Wouldn't that be an awesome change of pace?”

The last bit concerned him, though. A threat was thinly veiled behind Ardyn's words. Make sure Noctis does what he's supposed to, and his secret is safe. Fail at that, and everything he's worked for will be gone. If they listened to his old reports with the right context, they were sure to spot the truths he was trying to hide.

In an attempt to distract himself from a problem he had no solution to, he started clicking absentmindedly on his phone. It was several hours later when he heard a knock on the door followed by Ignis' voice asking if he was inside.

Over dinner, they explained their plan to bring the boats back. Get a gemstone for some weird reporter they ran into, and in exchange he would arrange for a boat to pick them up and stay silent about their whereabouts to boot. He could be lying, of course, but it was their only option.

The next day went by in a blur. They somehow managed to not get eaten by the insanely huge bird creature sleeping near the stone, and Gladio wasn't letting Prompto live down his scream when the thing suddenly took off. The reporter, Dino, explained that it would take until morning for their ride to be arranged and show up at the docks.

It was Noctis who suggested renting out a room at the resort for what was supposed to be his last night in Lucis for a long while, despite Ignis' insistence that they shouldn't spend the last of their gil for a single night.

For a while, Prompto let himself forget the events of the last several days. He lost himself in the stories and laughs of his friends, concentrating only on trying to win the next round of cards. And for a few beautiful hours, everything was normal again. A normal couple and their two best friends on vacation together. Perhaps even two couples on a double date, if certain rumors were to believed.

As with the night at Hammerhead, Prompto was up long past when the others had collapsed on their beds. He stood out on the private deck outside their room, leaning on the railing and craning his neck to try to catch sight of the city. The treaty should have came and went that afternoon. From the tiny bit of info he was given, they were hoping to finish the final stages of their attack at that moment, while Noctis slept peacefully and unaware a few hours away.

Prompto had planned his report for the next day. Noctis would escape in the chaos and Prompto, already out of the city as planned, would meet back up with him. Either they would ask him to keep sending reports as before, or they'd order him to finish the job. The plan had never been for Prompto to become an assassin, but he wouldn't put it past them. If they did, he'd turn himself in and hope for the best.

“I'm sorry, guys,” he whispered to the empty air. “I just hope things can go back to the way they were when this is all over.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are things I was going to explain in this chapter, but it got way too cluttered and weird. But I'll get to them.
> 
> To break some of the writer's block I had on this, I skipped ahead and started writing The Reveal™. So that actually exists now. Here we go.


	10. A Little Less Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, this one was late >.> Sorry, everybody! A mix of life and writer's block made this one hard to get through.
> 
> A little shout-out to my spy friend commenter for inspiring a thing that's mentioned in this chapter. You'll know it when you see it. You really helped me solve how I wanted a few things to go down ^^
> 
> I'm trying not to spend too much time on scenes from the game unless Prompto's perspective adds something to it.

The sun peaked over the horizon, shining soft morning light through the ceiling-high windows of the hotel room. Prompto sat wide awake in a chair pushed back into the corner. Sleep refused to take him that night, so he stayed up and, for reasons he didn't understand, practically tortured himself with his phone. Dozens of articles were already online, detailing as much of the attack as they could manage without any witnesses from within the Citadel.

One thing was consistent in every report. The King was found dead, and Noctis and Luna were assumed dead as well. Prompto chewed on his lip, brows furrowed, trying to find anything new. _Luna was supposed to be in Altissia. Why are they saying she's dead? No way His Majesty would want her around during the treaty._ Further searching revealed that she had been seen walking into the Citadel after a Glaive escorted her through the city, and that was her last known location to the public. _Calm down, dude. They didn't find a body. They said Noct's dead, too. She's gotta be fine._

Ignis stirred when the light reached his eyes. He sat up, and he immediately squinted at Prompto across the room. He slid his glasses on and said, “Surely I'm still dreaming. I've never known you to wake up so early.” Prompto shrugged one shoulder and forced a laugh.

“Nope, you're awake. You'll know I'm lying if Noct wakes up on his own before noon.” Ignis gave him an odd look, but seemed to dismiss whatever he was thinking.

“In that case, care to join me? I'd like to buy something fresh for breakfast this morning. Preferably before Noct can see what I'm making.” That tiny twitch of a mischievous smile Prompto knew so well from their apartment days was comforting. Hiding vegetables in their food sounded way more fun than obsessing over the news.

Prompto didn't count on the bustle and noise when they left the resort. Beach-goers huddled around radios, a dozen people on their phones muttering prayers that the other end would pick up, newspapers passing from hand to hand. Prompto feigned confusion, but his heart was pounding. Somehow, even with his long morning reading every article he could find, this sight was what made it real. There were people all around him who lost loved ones or their homes, or who feared their own home could be next.

He watched as Ignis' usual calm exterior shattered when he got his hands on one of the papers. _He had an uncle in the Citadel, right? And his parents... I don't remember._ Prompto mentally kicked himself. He had been so focused on how Noct would react that his friends' losses had escaped him. All three of them had lost people that night.

Ignis swallowed hard and forced himself to look more composed. “We have to tell Noct,” he said, and he pushed his way back through the crowd without another word.

 

* * *

 

The second Noctis realized Ignis wasn't playing some cruel prank, he insisted they turn back and go to Insomnia. He had to see it for himself or he wouldn't believe it.

A glance at the speedometer from the passenger seat showed that Ignis was speeding, with his hands gripped so tightly on the steering wheel that his gloves squeaked against it. He was trying to keep calm for their sake, Prompto was sure. He checked the mirror and saw Gladio more tense than he could ever remember as he constantly checked the messages on his phone, and Noctis' glare was focused on the horizon like it was personally preventing him from going home.

They made it there in record time, but Ignis had to stop far outside the gates of the city. A Niflheim checkpoint had been set up overnight far from the entrance with cars lining up to try to get in. They quickly agreed to try to get a vantage point elsewhere and turned the Regalia onto a dirt road before anybody could recognize the car. Prompto couldn't tear his eyes away from the guards at the checkpoint as they sped away. Magitek troopers. MTs, as he'd grown used to hearing them called, even though he alone was aware of how inaccurate the name was. It would be easier if they truly were empty.

It was no better when Noctis lead them to a side passage up to a hill overlooking the city. Somebody had counted on them going this way. MTs roamed the area, and for the first time, Prompto's trigger finger froze. He thought back to the people he grew up with and who trained beside him. The boy who praised him for his progress the day he was given his new mission. The broken and brainless, cannon fodder and lab rats, and all the other names he gave them.

Gladio's sword swung in and took off the head of the one he was staring at. “Get it together, Prompto!” he called as he moved on to the next one, and that voice ripped him out of his thoughts. He lined up his sights again and open fired. Three fell in as many clean shots before he had to change positions to avoid their fire.

He kept track of his kills. _It's not their fault,_ he told himself as he landed his fifth killing blow farther down the pathway. _We have to do it. We have to get through. But that doesn't mean nobody should remember them._ So he kept counting. Numbers alone weren't perfect, but they were better than nothing.

That number stopped at eleven when they finally reached the hill. They saw what they already knew to be true, and the radio on Prompto's phone confirmed it. Insomnia had fallen. Smoke rose from the city. The Citadel itself was masked in the largest plume rising from the center of the city. Niff airships drifted overhead to provide even more reinforcements. Noctis took a call, Cor's muffled voice barely reaching the rest of them, and Prompto could see the exact moment he told Noct that his dad really had fallen in the fight.

 

* * *

 

They drove to meet Cor early the next morning after a stop for supplies and rest in Hammerhead. Cor lead them to an ancient tomb, fighting alongside them all the way, and Prompto could feel his eyes locking onto him often. It wasn't quite the cold stare from training. One that would make him worry he had messed up until the curt but genuine praise followed it. But Cor rarely let what he was thinking be known by sight alone. Prompto made a mental note to ask about it later and tried not to let it bother him.

The five of them stood before a stone casket, the top carved into the shape of a person holding a sword that was far too pristine for how long it must have sat there. There would have been something serene about the sight if not for Noctis and Cor arguing on either side of it.

“A king is sworn to protect his people,” Cor said with a step toward them. Prompto moved back along the edge of the room as the air grew uncomfortable. He could see what Cor was doing. Noctis got trapped in his own head too easily, caught up on the losses and his anger and sadness. What he felt made sense, but he needed the push forward.

“And yet he chose to protect only one prince,” Noctis replied, eyes down. “Was that his calling? Forsake the masses to spare his own son?”

Prompto exchanged uneasy glances with Ignis and Gladio. They all knew things could be complicated between Noctis and his dad, if only because they had so little time to see each other. But no matter what, they had never heard him direct such a resentful tone toward the King.

Noct's voice cracked as he started to yell. His real problem came to light with his words. Why didn't the King tell him what was going on? Why did he smile as they left? Prompto turned his back as the words came spilling out, and he couldn't help but tense up when Noctis dropped his voice again and said, “Why did he lie to me?”

Cor explained what Prompto suspected from their short meeting with Regis before they left. He wanted his son to remember his father rather than the King. Besides that, Noctis simply couldn't be in the Crown City. Getting him out was his way of telling Noctis it was up to him to take it back. And the first step to that was this sword, among many other royal arms.

Prompto turned back just as Noctis reached his hand out to the casket. Two realizations came to him as the blade glowed blue, floated into the air, then physically passed its power into Noct. First, that Noctis probably had more potential power than any one person in all of Eos, to the point it might have terrified him if he could disconnect it from the person Prompto knew he was. Second, with the newfound determination lighting the eyes of the prince – _King? I guess so. Bet he'd hate if we called him that, though._ – he knew his home country should be scared. There was no stopping Noctis when he got that look.

Outside the tomb, Cor gave Prompto a long, stern stare and said, “Come with me. We have something important to discuss.” At his friends turning to follow, he added, “In private.” Prompto turned his head back as they walked away and shrugged at them.

Cor wasted no time getting to business once they were out of sight and earshot. “How much do they know?”

Prompto blinked up at him. He thought back to his brief moment of understanding with the King when they left Insomnia. _Does he know, too? Okay, play this safe._ “About what, sir?”

“No games, Prompto. You know exactly what I'm talking about.” Prompto swallowed hard and glanced away. _If he had a problem, you probably wouldn't still be standing here. Relax._

“Nothing. I'm still helping, but they don't know.” He chose intentionally vague language, just in case.

“Prompto...” Cor sighed, and Prompto swore he looked concerned. “We didn't want to intervene, but the longer you wait, the worse it's going to be.”

“I know, just-- Wait a sec, why didn't you say anything before? How did you even know? How many people knew what was going on? What did--” Cor held up a hand to stop his rambling.

“One question at a time.”

“Yes, sir.” He ran over everything he wanted to know, then asked, “How did you guys figure it out?”

“Clarus convinced Regis to run a more thorough investigation on you background after you started spending most nights in Noctis' apartment. I'll give Niflheim credit for their forgery, but your parents and their shop in Lestallum don't exist.”

“Oh, right...” Prompto rubbed the back of his neck. “Pretty sure I wasn't supposed to draw that much attention. They didn't plan for that.”

“I guess it's hard to plan for the actions of a teenager,” he mused. “Well, Regis hated to do it, but he had me bug the apartment while you two were at school. You were caught within the week.”

“But... you didn't do anything about it?”

“You were blatantly lying to them. We even connected a few of your reports to times Niflheim didn't send enough troops to a fight or walked right into a Glaive ambush.” Prompto's eyes shot wide, and an amused spark flashed in Cor's eyes. “Surely you considered that before?”

“Well yeah, but it's not like anybody was telling me about it. I had no clue if I was really helping.”

“Clarus and Regis agreed that you were. I removed everything from the apartment a few weeks later.”

Prompto sighed heavily. “Can't believe I got found out so soon, though.”

“You weren't subtle, Prompto.” When he hung his head, Cor added, “You were also a child in over your head. Nobody should have expected you to be able to do that alone. We were actually impressed you were brave enough to betray the Empire.”

“Really?” Cor gave a short nod. “How come nobody tried to make the whole double agent thing official then? Couldn't you have used me?”

“That wording is exactly why the King refused to do so. He wouldn't use you the way the Empire did. It was decided that, as long as you were safe inside the walls and not considered a threat, we would let your life be as normal as possible. He did try to make sure you knew you had his blessing at the end, however.”

Prompto smiled to himself. “Thanks, sir. It's... I can't figure out how to explain it. It's just nice to know I was a little less alone in all this as I thought, you know?”

There was a long pause while Cor regarded him, face unreadable. “You don't have to be alone at all. The longer you wait to tell them, the worse it will be. You know that.”

“Yeah...” He stole a glance over his shoulder toward where the other three were chatting in the distance. “I'm just... I don't know.”

Cor gave him a knowing look. “I don't envy your position. Don't wait too long, Prompto.”

“Yes, sir. I'll try.”

 

* * *

 

That conversation played through his head many times that next week. It was time, and he knew that, but what could he do? _I can't just go, “Oh hey, guys, guess what? I've been a spy this whole time! Isn't that just wild?”_ He sighed heavily, head rested on his arms as the countryside passed by outside the window. _Gotta wait for the right timing. If that even exists._

“Prompto?” Ignis said his name like it wasn't the first time, or even the second.

“Sorry, spaced out a little. What's up?”

“We'll be arriving in Lestallum in a few hours. I was wondering if you planned to stay with your parents instead of the hotel tonight. Perhaps they'd like have Noct over for dinner.” He added the last bit with a nod of his head toward the sleeping prince in the back seat. Prompto got the distinct feeling he waited until now to bring this up for that very reason.

“No, I'm staying with you guys. It would be better if they didn't know I was in town.” Prompto pushed down the rising discomfort at adding more lies and half truths while he was planning on coming clean. A small part of him noted that he could start talking right then and there instead, but he couldn't make himself do it.

He heard Gladio close his book in the seat behind him. “Something wrong between you guys?”

“That's putting it lightly.”

“Surely they want to see you after all this time,” Ignis noted. “Especially after the attack on Insomnia.”

“I think what Iggy's trying to say is that we don't want to see the guy with a family to go back to skip out on his chance.” His voice was serious, although he didn't sound like he planned to push the issue. Prompto pressed his lips together in a tight line as he debated a response.

“You guys don't get it,” Prompto sighed. “Let me put it this way: _I_ had to call _them_ after the treaty. Nobody bothered to check in on me.” The one thing that wasn't a lie, and he wished it could be. Verstael went silent after the attack. He didn't try to hide his shock at Prompto's survival when he reported in a few days later. Apparently nobody expected him to make it.

There was a drawn-out silence. He could see both Ignis and Gladio struggle to come up with something to say that could help.

“Bet Iris is gonna be happy you two are staying with us,” Gladio said suddenly. “She's getting your bed, though. Hope you like the floor.”

“What? Why ours?” Prompto whined.

“'Cause Noct can fall asleep anywhere, and you go with him by default. Lucky you, right?”

“So much for all those prince dating benefits.” Prompto crossed his arms and pretended to be annoyed, but he was laughing along with Gladio. He shot him a smile that he hoped conveyed how grateful he was for the change of subject.

When Ignis parked the Regalia in Lestallum and Gladio roused Noctis from his nap, Prompto told them he'd meet them at the Leville later in the evening. He made up an excuse about wanting to walk around the city again. At first, he only hovered around the food carts and observation deck, but as soon as the others were out of sight, he made his way toward the edge of the city.

Prompto walked beyond the city limits, sticking to the edge of the road until he found what he was looking for: a break in the guard rail that lead to a set of stairs down to the ground. Far away from people and out of sight from passing cars. It wasn't a short walk by any means, but it was the safest bet.

It was time for a report. Too much longer would be suspicious. Besides, Noct and Cor had torn through an Imperial outpost and taken down a high-ranking member of their army not too long ago. He needed to make sure the image he painted of the hopeless weakling prince wasn't ruined.

“Prompto, reporting in. These three are at a loss. They know they're outnumbered and outmatched against our entire army. I swear they've thrown out a dozen different plans by now since they can't think of anything that could work. We've driven all over the country with no concrete goals. Pretty sure Noctis feels like they've made some progress after the incident at the outpost, but he had Cor the Immortal there to do most of the work. Now that the Marshall's gone, he's stuck again. I'll let you know if that changes.”

Prompto took a long, slow breath before continuing. He had been scolded in the past for pushing for any extra info from Niflheim, but too much was at risk without it. “Listen, Verstael,” he started, making a point to avoid any more familiar terms to address him, “I need more to go on here. What are you guys planning for him? If you wanted him dead, you could just have me do it. What's going on? I can't do my job if I don't even know what that job is. End report.”

With his bracelets back in place and everything closed down, he started his long walk back to Lestallum. A rekindled determination washed over him. As soon as he got what he needed out of Niflheim, he would tell Noctis every detail he needed to keep him safe, Prompto's own safety be damned. If whatever fate his friends decided for him would save them and their country, he was ready to accept it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the reveal only needs a small amount of editing, so it'll be 100% ready by the time I reach it. I have a loose chapter outline, so I'm almost certain I know when it's happening too. And I got a pretty glowing review from the only other person who's read it (thanks lialox <3 ) so yeah. That's a thing.


	11. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! And so is this fic!
> 
> Life happened and I fell out of the fandom for a few months. But Episode Prompto drew me right back in, and I'm back at it. I feel like I'm a little rusty again, but hey, I had fun writing! That's what really matters.
> 
> Mini plot reminders since it's been a while: We left off on the group just arriving in Lestallum, and Prompto decided to ask Verstael what the long-term plans were and why he was never ordered to kill Noctis. He made the decision to come clean about everything once he got that info.

Prompto lingered on the streets of Lestallum long after the sun had set, browsing shops until they closed and making a mental map of everything he could remember. He had never had the chance to wander his fake home. The story needed to be convincing for at least a few more days until he got the response to his last report.

When he finally made his way to the Leville, a boy was waiting for him in the lobby. He introduced himself as Talcott. Prompto immediately liked the kid. He was energetic, enthusiastic about helping at the hotel, and seemed to have no filter whatsoever when he asked questions on the way to the room.

Talcott wanted to know every detail of their trip across Lucis over the handful of minutes it took to walk down the hall and up a few flights of stairs. At one point he interrupted his own line of questions to ask, “If you're dating Prince Noctis, does that make you a prince, too? Am I supposed to call you Prince Prompto?”

Prompto, elegant as always, nearly choked on his own spit. They stopped walking while he pulled himself back together. “Nah, I'm not royalty. Just plain ol' Prompto. Maybe someday, though!” He tacked on the last bit for Talcott's sake more than anything. No reason to disappoint the kid.

“Well I think they _should_ make you a prince. You'd be a good one,” he said with such determination that Prompto was almost convinced. When they made it to the room the group was staying in, Talcott told him that he was supposed to go straight back to his grandpa's room and get ready for bed, so Prompto waved him off with a promise to tell him more about their adventures soon.

He stepped inside in the middle of Noctis flopping back on the bed and letting out a long, loud groan, a few playing cards in his hand, while Iris cheered. Gladio was cracking jokes at Noct's expense, and Ignis wore that little amused smile he always had when the group was being ridiculous.

It had been over a year since they had everybody together like this. Iris was a part of it all even before Prompto was, and having her there, playing games and laughing with them even with everything that had happened, really let Prompto see them for what they were. It was a rag-tag, pieced together little family. If that thought made him a bit emotional, he hid it well.

Prompto took a seat on the edge of the bed next to Noctis, who still hadn't sat back up. Iris poked at his cheek. “You gonna be okay down there?” she asked.

Noctis only groaned again, so Prompto took it upon himself to answer. “You've gotta know what a sore loser he is by now,” he said, ignoring how Noctis swatted his hand away when he tried to join in on the poking. “I mean, did I ever tell you about the first time he kissed me? It all started with--”

A hand was over his mouth in a flash. Prompto didn't even seen Noctis move. “Nope. We're not doing this. Let me keep my dignity.” He let Prompto go when his muffled laughs passed through Noctis' glove.

Ignis dealt him into the game, and the night went on as usual. There was something oddly peaceful about the chaos. Tired lines that had settled onto his friends' faces the last few weeks seemed to fade the more they joked and chatted. It was all a much-needed distraction from the weight of his phone in his pocket.

As promised, Noctis and Prompto gave up their bed for Iris and curled up on sleeping bags in the corner of the room. It didn't take long for Noctis to settle in at Prompto's side with an arm draped over his waist, and he yawned before speaking in a low whisper.

“You missed a few things while you were out.” Prompto hummed to acknowledge he heard him. “Iris heard Luna was in town.”

“Wait, seriously?” Prompto turned around to face Noctis, propping up his head with his arm. “So she made it out of Insomnia?”

“Sounds like it. No clue what she's up to, but I think she's okay.” Prompto could just make out Noct's hesitant half smile in the dark. “All the recent weirdness aside, I want to find her. I haven't talked to her for real since we were kids.”

“I always wanted to meet her! We can ask around in the morning. Or whenever you wake up.”

“That's... I'd like to, but...” Noctis let out a heavy sigh, almost too loud for the quiet room. “Talcott told us a rumor about some ancient King's power nearby, so that's probably one of the Royal Arms. That's gotta come first.” Prompto nodded slowly.

“That's your call. You know all this kingly business better than I do.”

“I really don't. I have no clue what I'm doing, Prom.” He breathed a soft laugh. “Sometimes I wish we could switch places for a day. You're better at winging it than I am.”

Prompto gently shoved at Noctis' shoulder, nearly tipping him over. “You're better at it than you think, dude. 'Sides, then you'd have to deal with being me for a whole 24 hours. You don't want that, and I definitely wouldn't want you to have to go through it.”

Noctis stared at him for a long while, the dim streetlights out their window lighting the confusion in his eyes. He shook his head slightly. “Five years later, and you're still the mystery boy. I can't figure you out sometimes.”

“Sorry, Noct. At this point I've got an image to uphold.” Prompto paused for a moment, then took up a more serious tone and said, “For real, though. I'm sorry. You'll get it soon, and then... Well, I really _am_ sorry. In case I don't get the chance to say it later.”

“Prompto, what--”

“Goodnight, Noct,” Prompto interrupted him, turning his back to Noctis and pulling the edge of his sleeping bag up over his shoulders. “We've gotta rest up for the weapon hunt tomorrow.” He could almost feel Noctis struggling to find something to say. But he was never great at initiating the conversations that they both knew they needed to have, so if Prompto stopped talking, there wasn't much he felt he could do. He muttered a reluctant goodnight and turned away.

 

* * *

 

As always, everybody was awake and ready for the day before Noctis stirred at all. Gladio left for an early run through the city, Ignis was searching the market for fresh ingredients for breakfast, and Iris was determined to give Noctis a tour of Lestallum when he woke up. With his messages still empty and nothing to keep his mind off things, Prompto opted to take his camera out to the observation deck and try to get a few good shots.

The Disc was miles in the distance, but still beautiful in a way that didn't seem real. _Maybe I'll get the chance to get some close-ups soon. Get past that blockade. Pretty sure Ignis mentioned wanting to check something there anyway._

As he fiddled with the settings on his camera to set up a shot, his hands started trembling. Prompto gripped the camera with white knuckles, terrified to drop it, before he realized that he wasn't the one shaking. The ground was. Locals and tourists all around steadied themselves on railings and buildings. It was over in seconds and didn't seem too severe, but that didn't stop the chatter.

“You think it's true?” asked one young woman to her friend. “That The Archean really woke up?”

“Sounds stupid if you ask me,” she huffed back.

“But what about all the earthquakes? I don't think those can happen naturally around here.”

“I think an angry god would do more than rattle the ground a little bit. You're gonna freak yourself out listening to all these rumors.”

Prompto frowned as he listened in, turning his gaze back to the meteor in the distance. He wracked his brain for the little bit of info Noctis had given him about the Astrals over the years. The Archean supposedly caught the meteor and held it on his shoulders, still there to this day. Prompto never put much weight into the common religion of Lucis. He definitely never thought people took those stories so literally.

A voice came from behind him, from a spot he thought was empty, speaking as if it knew Prompto's thoughts. “They're more than mere stories, you know.”

An unpleasant chill ran up Prompto's spine and left the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He fixed his gaze forward and leaned on the railing in front of him, refusing to look as the Chancellor stepped up beside him. “What's that supposed to mean?” he asked with a voice as steady as he could manage.

“The Astrals do exist in physical form, and The Archean truly holds the weight of the meteor on his shoulders. Common knowledge to anybody claiming to be from this city.”

Prompto's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “Thanks,” he said flatly. “You're not here to give tips.”

“Is it so wrong to make a bit of casual conversation before getting to business?” Ardyn asked with that fake lilt in his voice. “But if you insist. It's time the young king got his first nudge in the right direction.”

“For this path he's supposed to be on? What's your deal with that?” He finally glanced to the side to look at Ardyn's face, trying to read his expression.

“You should know better than anybody that revealing your affiliations and motives is a dangerous move.”

“And I'm just supposed to trust you?”

“No more than your friends trust you.” Prompto opened his mouth to talk back, but Ardyn cut him off. “We both want the same thing. With our help, he'll fulfill his destiny, and the world will be saved! What more could you want?”

He lifted his weight off the railing and turned to face Ardyn fully, resisting the urge to take a step back so he wouldn't have to crane his neck to look up. His thoughts raced with things he could say, but they all caught in his throat. The Chancellor was dangerous. _Maybe it's better to play his game until I find out what he wants. It's not like Noct would listen if I told him to just not try to save Lucis. And Ardyn could still sell me out._

When Prompto didn't respond, Ardyn continued anyway. “Titan will fully awaken while you're busy taking your trip behind the waterfall. He'll send visions to your king with the tremors. In fact, it should have already started. Get him back to this spot, and I'll conveniently be here to lend a hand.”

“And we need to get past the blockade.” Prompto ran his fingers through his hair, too stressed to care he was messing it up. “If you lay a finger on Noctis--”

“Now, now. No need to snap.” He removed his hat and bowed slightly, a grin on his face. “I'll see you here in a few days, Mr. Besithia.” With that final attempt to get under Prompto's skin, he turned on his heel and walked off, fading into the crowd before Prompto could say anything more.

Prompto practically collapsed on one of the benches nearby. His hands were trembling for real this time, a mix of fear and confusion and frustration overwhelming him. He flexed his fingers a few times to try to shake off the jittery feeling, but to no avail.

_I have to make sure I tell them about that guy, too. Ruin everybody's shitty plans against Noct all at once. They're smart. They can figure out how to handle him._

He looked out to the meteor again, its presence now more ominous than beautiful.

 

* * *

 

The waterfall cave took his mind off things, but only because the place was miserable. He suddenly regretted only packing outfits with no sleeves.

And maybe he was freaking out just a little bit. Daemons had already jumped them a few times, and Gladio thought is was funny to make jokes at Prompto's expense. Every corner was an ambush, every block of ice ready to crack open with a monster inside. And it definitely didn't help that they got horribly, hopelessly lost.

By the time they found the door to the tomb and cleared the room that held it of daemons, the whole party was covered in scrapes from sliding down frozen slopes and soaked to the bone from the ice and snow that had melted against their clothes.

Hours after they entered, they finally stumbled back out. The sky was beginning to show the first hints of orange tinting the clouds, but Lestallum wasn't too far away. They could still make it back to the hotel and get proper baths before bed.

No sooner than Ignis suggested that exact plan, the ground began to shake again. It started as a barely-there rumble, then grew more and more intense until Prompto had to steady himself against the rock wall beside him to stay standing. He nearly missed Noctis tumbling to the ground beside him, knees and hands hitting sickeningly hard against the solid ground, scraping and drawing blood.

All three of them hurried to his side. Gladio supported his weight as the ground settled down again, and Noctis stood with unsteady legs.

“Iggy, Prompto, get the tent. We're staying at the haven,” Gladio ordered, walking Noctis toward the glowing runes a short way down the river.

“I'm fine,” Noctis protested. “Let's just get back to the Regalia.” Gladio ignored him, however, and his argument fell apart when he tripped again, only kept off the ground by Gladio's grip.

When the campsite was set up and the fire built high enough to warm their still chilled bones, Ignis set to work applying a potion to Noctis' scrapes.

“It's Titan,” Noct said, breaking several long minutes of silence. “I think he's trying to tell me something, but I can only see bits and pieces.” Prompto's stomach flipped. Deep down, he had hoped that Ardyn was wrong. That they could avoid that encounter entirely. After a few more moments, Noctis added, “And I think I saw Luna.”

Ignis looked Noctis over thoughtfully, and he showed a flash of what might have been pity. He said slowly, with more hesitation than they were used to from him, “Lady Lunafreya was seen in Lestallum. I think it's safe to assume she has begun waking the Astrals for the Covenant.”

“The Covenant?” Prompto repeated.

“One of Lucis' past kings gained the aid of the Astrals in a time of great need, according to a few ancient records,” Ignis explained. “The Covenant hasn't been forged in millennia. I never thought I'd see the day...”

“Do we know for sure that's what's happening?” Gladio asked, a skeptical frown not quite hiding his curiosity.

“Sounds like the only way to find out is to go pay Titan a visit.” Noctis dropped himself heavily into one of the camp chairs. “But first, dinner.”

Prompto never heard the discussion about meal options mixed with occasional plans to tackle the blockade. He tuned out everything entirely the second his phone vibrated, the pattern that signaled a new report from the Empire shooting fear through him in a way it never had before.

_This is it,_ he told himself. _Get the plans, pass them along, and end this._ His own thoughts sounded more sure than he felt, and he wondered for a moment if he was really good enough to fool himself.

“I'm gonna go wash off,” Prompto announced, turning toward the river before anybody could see his face. “I'm all gross from the cave.” Gladio made a comment about going next, but Prompto was already gone.

He wandered a good way down the river, far out of earshot of the haven but still close enough to see the smoke rise from the fire. A large rock on the riverbank gave him the perfect cover to stay out of view. As a last paranoid safety measure, he turned his phone's volume down until it was almost off entirely.

A few minutes passed where Prompto did nothing but stare at the screen, unable to do what he had to. But it had to happen. He knew that, no matter how much he hated it.

Prompto took a deep, slow breath and navigated to the message, holding his phone close to his ear to hear over the rushing water. What he heard made his heart drop into his stomach.

“Don't forget your place, boy,” Verstael's voice snapped through the speaker. “That information is sensitive, and you do _not_ have the security clearance for it. You want to know what your job actually is? It's to follow orders, and to stop asking so many questions. If you can't do something as simple as that, you will no longer be an asset to us. Is that clear?” He heard a sigh. “I expect a response tonight. Failure to do so will have consequences.”

“No...” Prompto whispered. Then louder, “No no no, this isn't the plan. That's not how...” He gripped his phone with both hands and brought his forehead down to rest on top of it. Dozens of emotions came and went and mixed together, from anxiety to confusion to rage.

In the end, it was the white-hot anger that won the battle for control. All of that work, and he couldn't get the first shred of information out of them. They were treating him like he was disposable. And maybe, just maybe, a small part of him wanted this to be the night. All those years of hiding and lying and trying to play everybody's game left him tired, physically and emotionally, with no release. It had to end. He wanted to rest. He wanted to be honest. And they were depriving him of that.

Prompto didn't know how long he let those feelings stew inside him. It felt like minutes and hours all at once. He didn't consider that it might be enough time for his friends to grow worried.

He navigated to the recording screen and hit the button without thinking of what he would say. He could always delete it without hitting send if it came out wrong. But he had to vent. “Are you kidding me right now?” Prompto seethed. “I don't have security clearance? That doesn't make any sense!”

Prompto didn't realize his voice was growing louder. More than that, he didn't hear the footsteps that started to approach him and then stopped, drowned out by his own voice and the river. Oblivious, he continued. “Five years, Verstael. Five damn years of doing your dirty work, and you can't even tell me why I'm doing it? Do you even realize how dangerous this has been? I've put my life on the line every. Single. Day. For your stupid Empire and their stupid war. Well, you know what? I'm--”

His declaration that he was done working with them was replaced with a startled cry as a hand latched on to his shirt collar and spun him around. Dazed and scared, he couldn't react in time. A forearm slammed against his throat. Prompto felt his back hit the trunk of a nearby tree, and he was pinned. He wasn't strong enough to pull away. His grip slipped and let his phone fall to the ground.

Blurred vision from the sudden pain faded, even when he still could barely breathe. He saw the tattoos on the arm holding him in place first, then slowly panned his vision upwards to meet hazel eyes that burned through him.

Gladio added more pressure to Prompto's throat when he growled, “What the _hell_ was that?!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Fun fact: The whole fic started with this scene and the events of the next chapter playing in my head. I always thought it would be more fun to write him getting caught.
> 
> I'll try not to leave you guys waiting nearly as long after a cliffhanger.
> 
> You can yell at me on tumblr @battleselfie if you feel like it.


	12. Red-Handed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, guys!
> 
> I had to make sure I got this edited and posted before my copy of Splatoon 2 shows up in the mail. Couldn't leave you guys hanging while I play ^^;
> 
> Hopefully it lives up to your expectations!

Prompto grasped desperately at the arm pressing down against his throat. He tried to say something, but to no avail. There was too little air and too much panic swimming through his head for him to form the words, and even when he felt the arm pull away in favor of a hand pulling him up by the front of his shirt, he couldn't get his thoughts together.

“I'm only gonna ask one more time. What the hell was that?” Prompto swallowed down his fear. He'd seen Gladio mad before. He'd seen him absolutely pissed. But never before had he seen him look murderous, hardly restrained by a twinge of confusion and disbelief.

“I... That doesn't have a simple answer,” he forced out, voice rasping while it recovered from the initial attack. Gladio's scowl grew, and suddenly he found himself being spun around against the tree Gladio had him pinned to, the bark digging into his cheek. A hand brought his wrists together behind his back, and he didn't dare resist. Gladio slipped the bandanna off his arm with the other hand and tied his wrists as tightly as he could manage.

“I don't get to make the call on this alone,” he grumbled, grabbing Prompto's arm and yanking him toward camp.

Gladio pulled him along back to the haven in silence. The death grip on his arm was starting to cut off circulation, and he was sure there would be bruises, too. The one time Prompto tried to say something, the resulting glare shut him up immediately. Prompto didn't even want to know what was going through his head. His expression shifted a dozen times on the walk back alone.

Ignis and Noctis had their backs to them when they approached. The two paid little mind to their returning friends until Gladio shoved Prompto forward. He stumbled at the sudden movement, tried to regain his balance, and instead fell face-first toward the runed stone floor of the haven. He managed to twist himself sideways just enough to avoid any serious damage to his head or face, but he was vaguely aware of a thin trickle of blood coming from just past his hairline.

“What the--” Noctis started as he spun around and rushed forward, Ignis meeting Gladio's rage-filled gaze with a look of concern. “The hell, Gladio?!”

“Ask him,” Gladio grunted with a gesture toward Prompto, who was now sitting up on his knees with Noctis' help. “Because trust me, I'd love to know what's going on.” Noctis stayed kneeling beside him, but his grip on Prompto's shoulder tightened when he didn't speak up right away.

All eyes were on him, all silently questioning. Prompto didn't have answers, or rather, none of the answers he had would do anything other than piss them off. He looked to each of them in turn and thought, _That's it. Time's up._ He swallowed thickly, steeled his nerves as well as he could, and forced himself to look Noctis in the eye. _I owe him that much, at least._

“When I was out in the woods... Well, he walked up while I...” Prompto internally cursed himself for the false starts. “Gods, this would've been so much easier if I told you when I had the chance.”

“Prompto, whatever this is--”

“Not the time for the whole endless acceptance thing, Noct. Gladio's not even overreacting. I...” _Like ripping off a bandage. Just get it over with._ Prompto glanced away for a moment before looking up again and continuing. “I was sending information to Niflheim. About you. I've... been doing it for years.” He wanted to explain everything, to keep talking until they knew the whole story, but he couldn't make himself do it. The decision whether or not to hear him out was theirs to make, not his.

The air around the haven stood still, and for a few long minutes the crackle of the campfire was the only thing that broke the thick silence. Prompto could feel his whole world crash around him when Noctis pulled his hand away from his shoulder. He didn't stand up, but Prompto almost wished he would. That close, he could see every flash of emotion cross his eyes. Confusion, despair, pain. Prompto couldn't stand knowing that he was responsible for that.

Ignis was the first to speak up, though even he was lacking some of the usual composure in his voice. “Gladio, could you find the spare rope for the tent? I'd like him bound properly while we question him. Can't risk him running off.”

“Yeah. Pretty sure it's in the trunk.” Gladio's rage seemed to diminish a bit when surrounded by the more shocked and somber air around Ignis and Noctis, but he still looked ready to hit something. That something probably being Prompto. He reached down and placed a hand on Noctis' shoulder as he walked by them and motioned for him to follow, and Prompto's heart sank at the realization that Gladio didn't want Noctis close to him.

Prompto was left staring at the ground while Ignis looked him over. He could hear footsteps coming closer and suddenly found himself being pulled up by the forearm. Ignis guided him to one of the camp chairs and sat him down, then regarded him for a long moment before he sighed and shook his head. “To think I could have failed at my job so spectacularly.” Prompto wordlessly returned his gaze to his feet. “While I shouldn't be saying this, I want you to understand your position here. You're getting this chance because none of us want to believe what you told us is the truth. Maybe it's foolish and sentimental, but we're holding on to that hope.”

“Wish I could say it wasn't true,” Prompto said. “I mean, it's not that simple, but...” He stopped when he saw the others returning out of the corner of his eye. Gladio made quick work of tying his wrists and ankles for real, and Prompto didn't even bother testing how well the knots held. They all took their seats. Prompto couldn't read the expression on Noctis' face across from him. He had completely shut himself off in a way he had rarely seen before, stone-faced and distant.

“Start talking,” Gladio ordered.

“Right.” He nodded slowly and faced Noctis. “You know some of this, sort of. Just not with all the context.” Prompto turned to Ignis next. “You've taken a few MTs apart after fights, right?” Ignis' brow furrowed slightly as he searched Prompto's face for the intent behind the question.

“I have.”

“You ever notice markings on them? On the top of the right wrist.”

“They each have some sort of identification on them, but I don't see how that's relevant to this.”

“Damnit,” Noctis breathed out, the first time he had spoken up yet. “So that's what your tattoo is?” Gladio and Ignis both stared at Noctis, then back to Prompto, and he squirmed in his seat as their eyes settled on his rope-covered wrist.

“Yeah, it is.”

“You told me you had that because your dad was an asshole.” There was something accusatory in his tone, and Prompto couldn't blame him. Half truths might be better than outright lies, but they still weren't good by any stretch of the imagination.

“My dad,” Prompto let out a shaky breath, “is in charge of the place where they make MTs. He dumped me in the program as soon as I was born. Some real Father of the Year material there, huh?” A bitter laugh escaped him.

“Wait, back up,” Gladio said. “MTs are robotic soldiers. So you're, what, some kind of android or something? If they're making MTs that look and act completely human, who knows how many they had hiding in Insomnia.”

“No no no, you've got it all wrong. Did you miss the part about me being born and having parents and all that?”

“Figured that was symbolic. Like, it stood for being made, and your dad built you or something.” Prompto let out a short, slightly nervous laugh despite himself, but stopped when three glares reminded him of his situation.

“You guys are looking at it the wrong way. It's not that they made an MT that looks like a human. I'm just a human who never got converted into one at all.”

“Converted?” Noctis asked, his voice lined with a touch of concern.

“Yeah, that's sorta one of the key parts of all of this. Every MT starts human. They raised us at Zegnautus Keep, or sometimes they'd take people from outside if numbers got too low. They started training us for combat at... I think I was 13? Then, when your body can handle it, you get converted. Most people are 17 or 18 when they go, sometimes a little older. I, uh... I don't really know how it works, but you guys saw what they turn them – us – into.”

There was a hush through the camp, and each of them seemed to be struggling with something. It took Prompto a few moments to realize they probably had to come to terms with what their body count had to be if MTs were people, something he'd had to work through alone weeks before.

Noctis stood up after a minute, fists clenched at his side. “So what? They ship one of their kids out to Lucis to spy, right? Or were you supposed to kill me?” Prompto froze in his seat. The look in Noct's eyes was dangerous, and every instinct was telling him to back away, but he couldn't move.

“What? No, I... They never told me to kill you, I swear.”

“But you're not gonna deny the rest of it?”

“I can't. I wish I could, Noct, I really do.” His tone was pleading. He felt selfish even hoping that he could continue to explain his way out of things, but he had to try.

“So it was all fake, then.” Noctis' voice dropped down to just above a whisper. “You were just using me.” The words pierced through him. _Shit, I have to fix this. I don't care what they do with me. I can't let Noct think that's true._

Ignis and Gladio shared a glance and seemed to decide that they shouldn't interrupt this. Part of Prompto wished they would, but he knew he couldn't escape this part.

“Noct, no, that's not how...” He bit his lip and averted his gaze. “I mean, at first I was just doing my job. But then I actually got to know you, and I couldn't--” Prompto's words were cut short when Noctis suddenly turned around and started walking to the tent. “Noct, wait!”

“You guys deal with this. I need to lay down.”

Noctis stopped in his tracks at the sound of Prompto's chair scraping against the stone and nearly toppling over. He stood up, balancing as well as he could with his tied ankles, and ignored the sight of Ignis and Gladio both readying themselves to defend if needed. “It's not like I asked for any of this!”

That gave Noctis pause, and Prompto took advantage of his loss for words.

“What was I supposed to do, Noct? I lived my whole damn life knowing I was going to get turned into some brainless killing machine, and they offered me a way out. Was I supposed to turn that down? They would've converted me two years ago, and you guys would've torn through me without a second thought. Is that the better outcome here?”

“You still betrayed us,” Gladio pointed out, unwavering in his anger. “Some tragic backstory doesn't change that.”

“Yeah, for a few months. I won't try to say I didn't. But I've been feeding them false info for over four years. I did the best I could, okay?” He turned back to Noct's conflicted face. “And I know you don't have any reason to believe me, but I really do love you. The Empire doesn't even know about that part. I wasn't ordered to date you or anything. That part's all real.”

While Noctis still tried to get ahold of his thoughts, Ignis said, “I'd like to believe you had good intentions. Noct may be the injured party here, but I counted you among my friends as well.” _Counted. Past tense._ “I want to trust you, but in light of recent events I find that more difficult. The betrayal at the signing especially.” Prompto let out a defeated sigh.

“They told me about that right when I was about to tell you guys all of this on my own. I figured you wouldn't forgive me after that, so...”

“You're telling me you could have stopped it?” Noctis snapped, taking a few steps closer. “My dad could still be alive if you said something!” He stepped into Prompto's space, and it felt like there suddenly wasn't enough air to breathe. Noctis' eyes, his body language, his voice. It all perfectly matched how he acted toward their enemies.

“Th-there was nothing I could--”

“Bullshit! You could have told somebody! If my dad knew what was going on, then--”

“He did know,” Prompto interrupted with desperation in his voice. “Cor already told you that, didn't he? And I knew I didn't have to tell him. Please, Noct. His Majesty and I just wanted you to get out. You would've died if you stayed.”

“I don't care.”

“Well I do!” Prompto could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. Flashes of emotion crossed Noct's face once again, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out to him. Hold his hands and let him know just how much his life meant to Prompto, how he did all of this to keep him safe, but his arms were firmly stuck behind his back and the words caught at the back of his throat. After a moment, Gladio stepped up beside Noctis and pulled him back by the shoulder despite his protest.

“Hate to break up this touching moment,” he said as he placed himself in front of Prompto, “but I'm not seeing any proof here. How do we know you're not still lying, huh?” Prompto tried and failed to stutter out a response under Gladio's intimidating presence. Then an idea struck. _Duh! I should have started with this._

“Call Cor. He knows everything.” Gladio gave him a skeptical look. He addressed Noctis and Ignis without breaking eye contact with Prompto.

“Go do that, guys. I'm taking him into the tent. Don't want him to be part of that conversation, and we can't leave him alone.” Ignis voiced his agreement and walked to the edge of the haven while Gladio tugged Prompto along, trying his best to hop with his bound legs without falling, before Gladio dumped him unceremoniously on one of the sleeping bags. He heard the tent zip closed as he worked his way upright, shifting his ankles in the rope until he could sit in a position somewhere close to cross-legged.

The silence was suffocating. Gladio sat between him and the closed flap of the tent with his arms crossed, staring him down. The distant, muffled voices of Ignis, Noctis, and who he assumed was Cor on speakerphone only made him more nervous. He couldn't make out any of the words, but Noctis still sounded upset. A shifting sound drew his attention back to Gladio, who was moving closer.

“Make a single move, and I'm knocking your ass out,” he said and reached around to Prompto's wrists. With a few tugs, the ropes loosened and fell away. As much as he wanted to, Prompto didn't resist when Gladio yanked his arm back in front of him to get a look at his codeprint. He felt far too exposed. Even showing it to Noctis filled him with an uncomfortably vulnerable feeling, and this was ten times worse. Gladio only looked for a few seconds, to Prompto's relief. When all the knots were back in place and tightened again, Gladio moved back.

“Really wanted to believe this was some sick joke,” he admitted, sounding oddly tired. “I recommended a damn Niff for the Crownsguard. Even trained him myself. Some Shield I am, huh?” He huffed a humorless laugh. “Worst part is, I liked you, kid. We don't talk about it, but we've turned into some kind of weird family out here. Feels like we're adding one more name to the list of people we lost to this stupid war.”

Prompto couldn't tell if he was supposed to respond or not. In the end, he decided to speak up anyway. “For what it's worth, I was already betraying Niflheim before you met me. Nothing from the training or the Citadel ever made it back to them. Or nothing real, at least.”

Gladio shook his head. “Why didn't you just tell somebody? You made it twice as dangerous for everybody, including yourself.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged in a way that was more casual than he felt, “kinda thought I'd be executed, man. That's why I was trying to tell Noct a little at a time before I went to anybody else. And believe it or not, 15-year-olds don't always make great choices.” A look of realization flashed on Gladio's face as he spoke.

“Gods, Prompto. Even if this all falls to shit, I'll give you credit for one thing. The Empire's full of some seriously evil people if they're okay with sending kids to do their dirty work.”

They heard footsteps approaching, followed by the tent unzipping and Ignis leaning his head in. “Cor confirmed his story,” he explained. “The King and a few people close to him have known for years and left him alone since he was doing no harm.” He turned to Prompto. “This will take some time to sink in, for Noct most of all. I think it would be best if the two of you spoke in private. Don't expect any immediate trust, however.”

“What about the rope?” Gladio asked.

“I think we can release him until morning. It's too dark to run without encountering daemons, and Noct has severed their magical ties for the time being. There's frankly not much he could do tonight.” Gladio nodded and moved to untie the knots. Prompto rubbed at the lines where the rope dug into his wrists, and for a brief moment he panicked at the thought of his bracelets laying on the ground in the woods outside. _They already know. You don't need to cover it up._ And that, despite everything, was an oddly freeing thought.

Ignis helped him clean up the blood that had dried on his hair and face from when Gladio pushed him to the ground, then urged him to go speak to Noctis sooner rather than later.

When he stepped outside the tent, Noctis was sitting at the edge of the haven with his legs dangling over the edge of the stone. Prompto hesitantly walked toward him and settled down a few feet away, looking out to the last hint of orange sunset on the horizon.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and he could feel Noctis staring at him. When he finally spoke, his words caught Prompto off guard.

“You look different,” Noctis said softly. Prompto turned slightly to look at him, still facing mostly away.

“Well, I've had my face slammed against a tree and the ground in the last hour, so I bet that didn't help.” His attempt at a lighthearted attitude didn't go over as well as he hoped it would, however, since Noctis still looked serious.

“Nah, not like that. You know how people start to look sorta different to you when you get to know them? It's like that, but the other way around. Like you're a stranger now.” His earlier anger that had sparked in his eyes at the campfire had faded, leaving them dull and tired.

Prompto gave him a sad smile. “I told you that you wouldn't like who I am. At least I got a few good years in before you found out.”

Noctis studied his face for a moment, lips pressed tightly together. He sighed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and look at the ground below. “I don't know how I feel about this right now. I _want_ to hate you. You've been lying to me from the first second we met. Acting like you didn't know who I was, and...” He let the sentence die, then looked back up. “You told me a couple years ago that I changed you. I need to know when and how.”

“Right, okay. No more lies.” Prompto nervously ran his thumb back and forth over the exposed codeprint. “The first few months, I didn't care. You were my ticket to freedom. Like I told you, I didn't care about anybody back then. Nothing personal, I guess? ”

“So you were giving real reports to Niflheim at first?” Prompto nodded. “How long did that go on?”

“A little over eight months. Until the first time I stayed at your apartment. That was when I realized I saw you as an actual friend instead of a fake one, and I just,” the words caught in his throat for a second, “I couldn't do it any more. I couldn't let them use me to hurt you. So I stole one of Iggy's reports, sent in a bunch of crap info, and never turned back.”

“Huh. Go figure. That was the same night I figured out my 'little crush' had gotten way out of hand.” He sighed. “I was head over heels, Prompto. I mean, you slept in my bed wearing my clothes. That's the jackpot for a pining teenager.” Noctis let out a short snort of a laugh at the thought, though he still didn't sound entirely happy about it.

“So when you said Ignis couldn't pick me up...”

“I told him to go to bed early so you'd have to stay.”

“Damn, you really did have it bad! That's awesome, dude.” Suddenly remembering the reason they were talking about this, Prompto added, “Uh, just so you know, I was probably crushing, too. I mean, I almost definitely was. But you can guess why I didn't exactly get how crushes felt different from friends. And I think I saw you as a friend before that and didn't get that either? I dunno, Noct. I was an emotionally stunted mess back then.”

“Guess I can't blame you for that part.”

The conversation died off for a minute. Noctis gave a thoughtful hum, then leaned back on his hands to stare up at the sky. “You know, I keep trying to figure out what I would have done if I was you, but I have no clue. The whole MT thing just adds too much gray area to what I wanted to be black and white.” Prompto watched his eyes close and noted that, even after everything, he didn't seem to think letting his guard down was dangerous. “It should be easy, right? You were sent to spy on me, so I should hate you. But... If everything between us really was real, I can't just throw out four years like that.”

“So... does that mean we're okay?” Prompto dared to let himself sound hopeful.

“No, not okay. Pretty damn far from okay. But I don't know if that means this is beyond repair or not. Just... give me some time. You'll know where we stand as soon as I figure it out.”

Prompto hesitated before moving for a gesture that was usually so easy for them. He slowly reached out his hand and placed it on Noctis' shoulder, earning him a jump and a confused stare. “Thanks, Noct,” he said with an appreciative grin. “I know that's more than I deserve.”

A barely visible, amused smile crept across Noct's face. “Well, I feel like I'm being an idiot for giving you a chance. Prove me wrong, okay?”

“I will! And, uh, Noct?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry. I don't think I got the chance to say that before. I really do wish it hadn't worked out like this.”

“Me too, Prom. Me too.” They fell into silence, but it was more comfortable than before. More like the lazy days back at their old apartment. The tension and unease were still there, and there was no way that could fade so easily, but it was subdued.

Eventually, Noctis made his way back to the tent. They found Prompto sitting on the other edge of the haven the next morning, watching the sunrise through tired eyes. His thoughts had kept him up, running through a thousand ways to make things up to everybody. How to repay them for letting him tell his story, and for leaving him with a fragile foundation of trust to build back up from.

Gladio helped him find where he had dropped his phone in the woods the night before, and despite a spiderweb of cracks across the screen, it was intact. He also grabbed his bracelets and quickly snapped them back into place.

While they sat in the Regalia on the way back to Lestallum, chatting about plans for the next few days, Prompto's phone buzzed in his pocket. The conversation halted, and he could feel the sudden attention placed on him. “That's, uh...” he stammered a few incoherent words, still struggling to openly speak about his reports, “That's from Gralea.”

Noctis and Gladio both leaned forward to watch over his shoulders as he pulled out his phone and worked his way to his messages. He scanned his wrist to access the data, overly aware of the eyes watching his screen.

“Prompto Besithia,” Noctis read off the screen, brows furrowed.

“Ah, I was wondering who this high-ranking Imperial father of yours was,” Ignis said. “Verstael Besithia, I assume. I've heard his name, but I wasn't aware of his role.”

“Yeah, that's him. Please don't start calling me that, though. As far as I care, Argentum is my real name.” He navigated to his newest message while he talked, and hit play for all of them to hear before he could talk himself out of it.

“I'm growing impatient, boy,” his father's voice crackled through the phone. “We expected an update of your position and plans hours ago. If I don't hear from you immediately, I'll assume you've been killed or compromised. Expect no protection if they find you alive after that.”

Nobody said anything at first. Ignis glanced back at Gladio and Noctis through the rear-view mirror, their looks showing that none of them could figure out how to react to that. Prompto, unable to stand the tension, spoke up instead. “Remember that thing I said about Father of the Year? Yeah. That's what I meant.”

He turned in his seat, and Noctis studied his face in silence. “Well then,” he said slowly, “go ahead.”

“Wait, what?”

“I want to hear what you've been doing behind my back all this time.” And yeah, there was a bit of a bite to his words. Prompto was reminded of what he said the night before, about how they still weren't okay. He pushed that to the back of his mind. Prompto shot Noctis an apologetic look before he started recording.

“Prompto, reporting in.” He forced his voice to stay even. “Finding the time to send these in safety isn't easy, you know. I got lucky sneaking off for the last one.” Prompto sighed, playing up a bit of the casual annoyance Verstael was used to. “I still don't get why you can't just tell me the plans, but fine. Their ideas are still shaky at best. They're trying to get Noctis ready for some bigger fights. Lots of small-time hunts, taking out our troops when they can, that sort of thing. I almost feel bad watching him try so hard. It's not a pretty sight. And they think they can actually whittle down our numbers enough to make a difference.” He briefly considered a few more things he could say, but he was already making up too much on the spot. Too risky. “We're resting the next few days. Tell me if you need more to go on. End report.”

When nobody spoke up against what he had said, Prompto hit send and put his phone away. All the attention was focused on him. He shifted in his seat, scratching at the back of his neck when Gladio broke the silence. “Huh. Not exactly what I heard last night.”

“Yeah. You got me before I could send that one. He sorta pissed me off more than usual,” he chuckled nervously. “Probably better that he didn't hear that.”

Noctis was staring at him again, intrigued this time. “So they think I'm useless?”

“They think all of you are. I've been underselling you guys. Element of surprise and all that. Been making sure they don't find out about the royal tombs, too.”

Ignis hummed thoughtfully. “You'll have to stop these reports in the future.” Prompto nodded. “In the meantime, however, this could give us an interesting advantage. If all of us create these reports together, we might be able to cover our tracks almost perfectly.”

“Easier to catch holes in the story, too,” Gladio added. “It's your call, Noct.”

Noctis leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. “It would be stupid to pass that up, right? Let's do it.”

The three of them started going over the different ways they could keep the Empire off their trail. Prompto answered questions when they asked, but mostly he sat in stunned silence as they bounced ideas off of each other. They refined their story into something more solid than Prompto had ever come up with on his own, fleshed out with small, believable details and fitting perfectly into the image Prompto had already crafted of them.

He couldn't help but wonder why he ever thought he was better off handling it by himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that I love and appreciate all of you guys, and I read and flail at every single comment. I just don't always remember to reply after the chapter has been up for a day or two. You're all great <3


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